


Miscellaneous

by Tessisbest



Category: Free!, Haikyuu!!
Genre: Attempts at humour, Awkward Sexual Situations, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Drabble Collection, Dream Sex, Ew reading the first ones is painful, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Drama, Female Reader, Female pronouns, First Times, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Light Angst, Love, Love Confessions, Mentions of Pregnancy, One Shot Collection, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reader-Insert, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Smut, Underage Drinking, Various/Reader - Freeform, Voice Kink, Voyeurism, Wet Dream, they get better I swear, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:54:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 27
Words: 100,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3736489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tessisbest/pseuds/Tessisbest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Free! and Haikyuu!! various/female reader one-shots and threads I make to improve my writing and indulge my -and potentially your- fantasies. </p><p>(Unfortunately I do not own Free! or Haikyuu!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tomcat wants attention (Kuroo Tetsurou)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Chapter contains NSFW Material~
> 
> You close your eyes and feel his smirk against the skin of your throat. God he was good at getting you hot and bothered.  
> “Ahn… Tetsu don’t stop.”  
> “Ora? Aren’t you meant to be working?~”

 

“ _Tetsurou what are you doing?_ ”

You were _trying_ to watch the documentary your history teacher had set for homework- _due tomorrow morning you might add._ You had _told_ your boyfriend that he could come over, if he really wanted to, but that you had to watch the stupid thing and that it wouldn't exactly be fun for him.  
Kuroo had given you a cocky grin, leaning down to press his lips against your ear and whispering suggestively.

“I’m sure I’ll find something to entertain me.~”  
And he had....

You slap away you boyfriends wandering hands, again, frowning at the TV.  
Honestly, he was like a cat vying for your attention, always at the most inopportune times of course.  
You sit in-between his legs on the floor, desperately trying to take notes on the work books spewed out over the low lying coffee table in your living-room.  
You shiver involuntarily as his breath ghosts across the back off your neck.

_-'1854, Commodore Matthew Perry forces the Japanese government to open a limited number of ports for trade'._ -

Kuroo slips his large hands under your shirt, kneading your hips. Slowly, slowly traveling upwards till they reach your breasts and making an appreciative noise when he finds your nipples already erect and tingling. You take a shaky breath to clear your head.

_-'1868, Meiji restoration begins and in 1872 the first railway line between Tokyo and Yokohama is built.'-_

He leans forward to suck leisurely at your neck and you can feel his hardness through the material of his pants as he accidentally-on-purpose presses his erection up against your ass and rolls his hips teasingly. You definitely don’t let out a little mewl at that, nope that doesn't happen.

_-'1894-95 is the Sino-Japanese War and 1904-05 is the Russo-Japa-'_  
_-what were you writing? Ah shit! It felt so good when he played with your nipples like that, He's so good with his fingers, you really want- Wait no, you have to get this done before tomorrow!_ _You couldn't afford to be distr….distracted! Even when he was ……_ okay fuck it.

Kuroo’s hands leave your breasts and travel downwards deliriously, deliciously slowly. Tracing every curve of your body and purring in your ear about how “You look so cute right now {name}-chan.~”  
Yup okay you admit you have no idea what is on the screen now. You close your eyes and feel his smirk against the skin of your throat. God he was good at getting you hot and bothered.

“Ahn… Tetsu don’t stop.”

“Ora? Aren’t you meant to be working?~”

Your eyes snap open in annoyance.

“That’s hard when you….when you’re…ngh.”

“When I’m what?~” Kuroo’s teasing voice coupled with his hands, which are now steadily making their way under your skirt towards your aching arousal in lazy circles, makes your legs tremble in anticipation as you desperately try to keep yourself under control.  
Damn those stupid teenage hormones!  
You open your mouth to deliver a cutting remark but it is somewhat ruined when instead a soft groan leaves your mouth as his fingers finally circle the outline of you heat through your embarrassingly damp panties.

“Heh, you’re so wet.~”

“Well yeah stupid that’s what happ-Geh!”

Not letting you finish Kuroo thrusts your panties aside and runs one long finger along your slit. Your moan is embarrassingly loud and it only encourages him, as he begins to move his finger slowly in and out of your glistening opening, crooking his finger each time in a come-hither motion that has you mewling his name into the back of your hand.  
Kuroo lets out a small growl at your ear at the sound and begins to attack your neck with his teeth to coax more of those lewd noises from your lips.

You drop your pencils so that one hand can brace yourself against the table and the other can cover your mouth to attempt to stop your embarrassingly loud moans.  
Kuroo clicks his tongue behind your ear and grabs your hand away from your mouth, thrusting two fingers up into you as punishment.

“You’re not allowed to hold in your cute noises Kitten, that’s not playing fair.”  
At his domineering attitude you start rutting against his hand, your cheeks flaming red. Desperate to reach your climax that only just eludes you. His frenzied fingers thrusting in and out of your wet heat just isn't enough to tip you over the edge.“Tetsu- ng- please it isn't enough, please hurry!

Kuroo chuckles, his knuckle grazing your swollen clit teasingly as he pulls his hand free of you panties and grasps your hips.  
He managers to maneuver your panting form so that your back is on the coffee table, causing your carefully stacked books to fall to the floor in disarray.

Kuroo’s eyes lock with yours as he grins, slipping your soaked underwear down your legs before he wrenches them open. Letting them rest on his shoulders so that you are wantonly displayed before him in a way that makes your cheeks burn red.  
Kuroo’s eyes sear with lust as he takes in your splayed legs and dripping arousal. They way your chest rises and falls under your ruffled shirt and your flushed face.

He bends down and breaths hot air against your clit making you squirm in his grasp. “Shit, Testu!”

“What do you want {Name}? Just ask and I’ll do it.~”  
Oh god. He wanted you to beg, and in the state you're in now you are fully prepared to. You desperately hope he doesn't bring this up later.  
“Please Tetsu li-lick-“

“Lick?” Kuroo takes your left foot into his hands and kisses the inside of your ankle.  
“I want-“  
He kisses slightly higher, his breath growing huskier by the second.

“You want?”

“Gah! For fuck's sake. I want you to give me head god dammit Kuroo!” You cover your beat red face with both your hands and moan in embarrassment as Kuroo snickers.

“You know I could never deny my little kitten anything.~” You jolt as you feel his lips against the inside of your thigh and whimper at the ache his torturous lips are building up in your dripping sex as he places sinfully wet kisses there.  
You reach a hand down to grip his hair and try to pull him closer to where you need his mouth to be and Kuroo _loves it._ Loves seeing you this desperate.

“Easy girl~ All good things…”

You prop yourself up onto your elbows so that you can glare at your insanely annoying boyfriend with a huff. “Kuroo Tetsurou. If you don’t start-“

You choke on your own words as Kuroo buries his head between your thighs and lavs at your clit with his warm tongue hard enough to make you cry out and fall back down as your arms give out. “Fuck! Tetsu..! Jesu-fuck!”

He hums happily at your response, making your breath hitch, and shifts your legs wider so that he has better access, alternating between sucking at your clit and messy licks down between your lips.  
Completely at his mercy you thrash about, tugging relentlessly at his hair and keeping up a constant stream of encouragement in the form of weak mewls of his name and loud curses every time his talented mouth takes you by surprise.  
When your thighs start trembling around his shoulders he knows that you’re close. He groans, low and heavy against your heat before pulling back and crawling over your weakly squirming body so that he can nuzzle against your throat.His voice when it comes out is strained from the sheer amount of _how fucking turned on he is right now._ “I’m fucking desperate to be inside you {name}, I’m gonna explode.”

Your breath has returned somewhat now that his tongue isn't teasing your folds mercilessly and you giggle at the state he’s in. He probably doesn't even realize he’s rocking against you with his clothed hard-on at this point, as his tortured breaths flutter across your neck.  
You wrap your arms around him and lick the shell of his ear. Nothing sounds better than having his throbbing dick inside you. “What are you waiting for then? Fuck me good Tetsurou-kuunn.~”

He doesn’t really need any more encouragement.  
Kuroo growls as he tries to get his belt off as fast as possible, only making it more difficult for himself in the process. When his pants and boxers are finally out of the way he gives himself a few quick pumps to try and relieve some of the tension he’s built up from teasing you for so damn long, but it does little to quell his lust. He fumbles around in his wallet for the ever present condom, rolling it on himself more clumsily than he usually does. You giggle at his eagerness and hook your legs around his waist, pulling him closer so that his cock touches your wet folds and it’s all he can do not to collapse at the overwhelming pleasure your heat provides.  
“Tetsu-kun you’ve kept me waiting so loongg! Hurry up, I want you inside me.~”

He snarls and thrusts into you. Setting up a punishing pace that has you scrambling for purchase on his shoulders and quivering around him in a way that makes him see stars.“Fuck {Name}! So tight…! Ngh.”

It doesn't take long for you to finally reach orgasm in hot waves that make you throw back your head against your now-battered Japanese history textbook. Clenching around his cock and crying out into his shoulder, crying out again when he doesn't let up his thrusts till he stiffens against you with a choked growl of your name. Twitching and shuddering he fills the condom with his seed, moaning vulnerably in your ear while you pet his head, a smile tugging at your lips.  
After-sex Kuroo is sleepy and affectionate, and dare you say it, extremely cute.  
He nuzzles against your neck, laying sleepy kisses there as he stifling a yawn.  
He had wanted to have you all day. You really have no idea how sexy you look in your Nekoma uniform. He had had to keep himself in check all through their boring lessons and now that you have finally helped him fulfill his fantasy about fucking you in your uniform he is sleepy and warm and unwilling to move.

The sound of the documentary credits rolling down the TV screen makes you frown. Feet now planted firmly on planet earth as you come down from the afterglow.  
You bop the back of your boyfriends head with your hand a little harder than strictly necessary. “Tetsu you idiot! Now I have to watch that stupid thing again!”

Kuroo just gives a non-committal sound and clutches you closer to him, not even bothering to pull out of you.“Kuroo Jesus Christ, get off me! This table isn’t exactly comfortable.”

Kuroo whines sadly and moves out and off you. Straightening his clothes and chucking the used condom into the nearby rubbish bin.  
You hunt for your underwear and pull them on, sorting out the mess of paper. Kuroo sets himself back behind you, his back to your couch, opening his arms with a taunting pout.  
You acquiesce, making yourself comfortable between his legs with limited grumbling.  
You blow on your bangs and snatch up the remote from where it feel off the table, rewinding the documentary and picking up your pencils while Kuroo dozes behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist and his head nestled in the crook of your neck breathing softly.

Maybe you had neglected him for a few days, but it wasn’t your fault if the teachers piled up the workload!  
“Like a fucking cat,” you mutter as you resume your note taking as Kuroo smiles against your skin, holding you just that little bit closer to him and giving a mocking purr before falling asleep to the sound of your pencil scribbling against the paper and the monotone voices from the TV.  
His last thought before he slips under is that he could stay like this with you forever.

 

~~~


	2. Tease (Iwaizum Hajime)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Contains NSFW Material~
> 
> “Don’t be sorry Hajime-chan.~” You rock forward teasingly and Iwaizumi’s fingers dig into your flesh with the effort of not moving upwards to meet your grinds. You couldn’t have that....
> 
> “Hajime-chaan, you don’t need to hold back. I don’t want you to.”

You pull back breathlessly, gazing down at your boyfriend with a cheeky smile.  
You can't help the small spark of smugness at the way Iwaizumi stares at your bare chest; his breath ragged as his adams-apple bobs in his throat.  
Giggling you trail your hands down his chest to the fine hairs leading down from his bellybutton. Loving the way he squirms on your sofa.

Inviting him over for dinner while your parents were away for the weekend had been the best idea ever. _Not that you had done much cooking yet._ ”Ne, you can touch them if you like.~”

Iwaizumi’s face colours a cute pink at being caught ogling. But honestly you would have been disappointed if seeing you topless like this didn't initiate some kind of reaction.

“R-right…um okay.” Your boyfriends gaze drops again and his hands tighten on your skirt-clad hips, but they don’t move upwards like you want them to. You chuckle inwardly.  
_Who knew Aobajousai’s ace would be so shy?”_

Gently you cover his hands with yours, teasing them off your hips and placing them over your breasts. Relishing in the way his breath catches as he gives an experimental squeeze. You can’t help teasing him a little bit. He always acts like you were some holy goddess that his hands would dirty. But  _god_ you wanted to be dirty. “Not so scary ne?~”

Iwaizumi frowns, his cheeks reddening even further as he opens his mouth to tell you off.  
But you don’t give him the chance. Leaning forward and pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the lines of his neck. Lingering on the places that give you the best reactions and effectively cutting off what he had been about to say into a choked moan of your name. “Ahn…[Name]-san..!”

You grin against his tanned skin, reaching down his body to palm his growing arousal through his pants. Iwaizumi growls in reply and captures your mouth with his own.  
His strong hands fonding your breasts of their own accord now as he bucks upwards to meet your hand in earnest.  
It seems Shy Hajime had left the building, at least for now.  
Whenever you fooled around he was always uncertain in the beginning. _(‘Did you like that? Does this feel good?')_  
You have taken it upon yourself to educate him on being honest about his desires, and what a marvelous student he was turning out to be.  
“{Name}-san….can-can I suck them?”

“Go ahead.”

Iwaizumi sits up, jostling you both and accidentally rubbing his hard-on against your aching sex. Drawing twin moans from both your lips. “S-sorry”

“Don’t be sorry, Hajime-chan.~” You rock forward teasingly and Iwaizumi’s fingers dig into your flesh with the effort of not moving upwards to meet your grinds. You can't have that now can you?

“Hajime-chaan, you don’t need to hold back. I don’t want you to.” Your words seem to snap something inside him. He lunges across the non-existent space between you to engulf your peaked nipples in his wet mouth. Rutting against you and moaning each time your clothed heat grinds against his arousal. An idea comes to you and you can’t help but grin evilly.  
Without warning you uncurl yourself from his lap, hopping off the couch without missing your boyfriend’s confused expression, nor the way his heated gaze follows the jump of your breasts. “What are yo-“

“Gotta go and start dinner Hajime-kun aren't you hungry?” You turn with a wink and sashay into the kitchen, fully aware of the sway of your hips and the way your plaid school skirt has rucked up around you waist, doing little to cover up your scantily clad ass.  
Iwaizumi swallows painfully, his eyes wide and staring, his pants agonizingly tight and his face flushed.  
He gets up from the couch and makes a beeline for his ridiculously sexy girlfriend. You squeal when you feel his calloused hand against your ass and skip teasingly out of reach. Giggling delightedly at his frustrated growl as you run around the breakfast bar.  
Never mind that running around topless like this kind of hurt. It's  worth it to see the predatory lust in Iwaizumi’s eyes as he chases you around the kitchen.  
You love how you have this much control over him. It’s only a matter of time before he pounces on you, giving in to his animalistic side. You have him wrapped around your little finger.

It isn't exactly a long chase. The kitchen is small and you not exactly trying to get away.  
Your laughter turns into a little yelp as he scoops you up in his arms and dumps you onto the (thankfully) clean bench top. Without preamble, he pulls your panties down your legs and chucks them carelessly over his shoulder.  
The grip on your thighs is strong as he pulls you towards him, sheathing himself up to the hilt in your quivering sex with a guttural growl. You moan at the feeling of fullness and reach behind him to grip his tight ass, whispering words of encouragement into his ear and meeting his almost brutal thrusts with your own.

“I’m not hungry for food,” he grounds out around his strained pants against your shoulder, moaning as you laugh and squeeze his buttocks in reply.

It’s only much later, when you are both spent and hungry, that you cook dinner together. Walking just slightly gingerly on your part.  
Iwaizumi notices this and guilty picks you up bridal style depositing you onto the sofa while you raise your eyebrows in confusion. “Hajime?”

“Sorry. I was too rough…“ He rubs the back of his neck, his face a myriad of different pinks and you chuckle tiredly.

“I kinda brought it on myself Hajime-kun. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I love it when you lose control.~” He blushes even more violently at your words and smug expression. Hurrying off to get you a blanket and the TV remote, telling you not to move until he’s finished with dinner.  
You have the best boyfriend ever. When he goes to walk back into the kitchen you call him over and pucker your lips pointedly. Iwaizumi bends without hesitation and strokes the side of your face gently with the pad of his thumb while you share a sweet kiss. He tries to express all his love for you with the kiss, because heaven knows he doesn't say it enough. He pulls back, quickly presses a peck to your temple.  
You smile happily, albeit a bit tiredly. He really has taken a lot out of you tonight.  
“Love you Hajime-kun.”  
“Uhn….L-love you too {Name}-san.”

 

~~~


	3. Welcome home (Azumane Asahi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Contains NSFW Material~
> 
> “A little birdy told me it was someone’s birthday today! So I’m here to show my gratitude to my sexy, sexy boyfriend.~”  
> Asahi’s mind is still finding it hard to catch up with recent events.“{Na-name}-san…I…Ehh?”

“Welcome Home master.~”  
Asahi freezes in the doorway his eyes wide and disbelieving.  
He was imagining this right? This was just some kind of reaction to those dubious cakes Nishinoya had given him as a present earlier in the day.  
Because there is _no way_ his girlfriend is smiling before him in a frilly maid outfit.

“Wh-what?”

You snicker at your boyfriends dying fish impression before grabbing his bag from his shoulders and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.“Have you had a good day at school master?”  
Asahi realizes that,  _yes_ , this is actually happening, and his face quickly becomes so hot you could fry eggs on it. “ _What are you wearing?!_ ” he splutters.

You grin, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your white, frilly headband and giving him a twirl to show off your newly purchased outfit.“A little birdy told me it was someone’s birthday today! So I’m here to show my gratitude to my _sexy, sexy boyfriend.~_ ”

Asahi’s mind is still finding it hard to catch up with recent events.“[Na-name]-san…I…Ehh?”  
You pout, annoyed that he hasn't said anything about how _darn cute you look in this dress_ ; continuing with his extremely-embarrassed and overwhelmed deer in the headlights look.  
You click your tongue and pull him through the door because it doesn't look like he’s going to move anytime soon, and you’d rather not put on a show for his neighbors.

Asahi is still flustered and gaping even as you lead him up the stairs and push him onto his bed, scrambling for his belt and trying to tug his pants down.  
Asahi squawks and tries to grab your hands and push you away with a string of nonsensical protests.  
You’re pushy and like getting your own way. But you’re not going to do something he doesn't want you to do, you wouldn't hurt him like that.  
So you let your hands fall to the side and quietly stand, backing towards his door to give him some room while he calms down.

Asahi is a mess. A flustered, hyperventilating mess. And he can tell from your expression that this isn't exactly how you had wanted this evening to go, and if there’s something he hates doing above anything else it’s disappointing you.  
When he joined the volleyball team again he told himself that he would try hard to be the person you deserved. But now he watches with wide eyes as you lean against his closed bedroom door and put your head in your hands.  
“Sorry Azumane-chan. I just really wanted to do something special for you. Guess I didn’t really think this through huh?” You smile weakly up at your glass heart boyfriend. You shrug your shoulders unhappily and he freaks out when he sees tears forming and your mouth begin to tremble, and now he really just wants to die.

“[Name] what’s wrong?!”

“Nothing, sorry this was a dumb idea. I got kinda carried away." You suddenly feel so stupid. Standing around in this outfit while your boyfriend clearly isn’t into it, _god you could just burn up from how embarrassed you are right now._

“I-I’m gonna go take this off.”  
Asahi jumps up and rushes over so he can put his hand against the door, cutting off your exit.

“You’re not leaving when your upset like this [Name]-san!”  
You sigh and smile, pushing thoughts of a steamy night screwing the daylights out of your boyfriend into the ‘never gonna happen box’.

“I asked {friends name} for advice on how to take our relationship to the next level coz I’ve been trying to hint at it for months but your just such an angel that you weren’t really picking up on it….”  
You gesture at your costume with a grimace. “This was her idea, but now that I’m thinking about it, it was probably a joke.” Little light bulbs switch on in Asahi’s mind. Behaviour he had dismissed as just a long string in strange practices from his slightly rash and eccentric girlfriend from the past few months now makes perfect sense. In fact, now that he’s thinking about it, you had practically been holding up a sign saying _‘I want to have sex!’._  Maybe even a flashing one.  
“Oh.” Oh!  
You pat his shoulder comfortingly, “it’s okay Azumane-chan. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”  
Now Asahi may be a coward, he fully admits that. But he is a teenage boy who is very much attracted to his girlfriend.

His eyes roam over your figure in that scandalously sexy outfit and the wheels in his head start turning. Imagining all the things they could get up to in his, thankfully, deserted house if he was only brave enough to do them. _But you have enough confidence for both of you._

Asahi swallows noisily. “What-what did you have in mind?”  
You look up at him in surprise, which only grows when your eyes travel down his body to the way he surreptitiously adjusts himself.  
_Huh. So he wasn’t such a pure cinnamon roll that he was above this kind of thing._

You prowl over to him and stand on tiptoes to kiss him, sloppy and heated. Asahi is timidly trying to keep up with you and keep the weird noises your kiss makes him want to utter at bay. You don’t let up until Asahi’s legs hit the side of his bed and he falls on his bum with a startled squeak. You barely leave his lips, following him down and straddling his lap without preamble.  
Asahi freezes, and starts shifting around nervously to try and hide his raging boner. But there’s _no way_ you cannot notice it with the way it’s digging into your thigh.  
He’s drowning in anxiety. He has no idea where to put his hands and his tongue doesn't seem to be working and- _oh god you had to have felt that right?_ Asahi stops participating altogether and you pull away with concern.

“Azumane?” Asahi cringes because he got so scared he froze and now you’re disappointed in him, he’s letting you down. He starts apologizing for stopping, apologizing for being turned on, apologizing for not knowing what to do. His rising hysteria is only stopped when you wrap your arms around him and run your fingers through his hair comfortingly, murmuring praise into his ear.  
“Azumane-chan there’s nothing to apologize for. I know you don’t know what you’re doing. It’s cute. If you weren't turned on I’d be a bit put out. And I only like doing stuff with you when you’re comfortable. It’s only me. If you don’t like something, tell me. If you want to slow down, tell me. But I know your holding back right now and I want to help you through this.”

His voice is scared and small. “What if I’m bad at it?” _And I disappoint you again?_ He wants to say but he doesn't.  
You freeze, deliberating what to do next. Asahi has given you an opening. You know that how you handle this will either lead on to more opportunities to fulfill your dirty fantasies, or make sexy-time an absolute impossibility because his glass heart won't be able to cope.  
You take his big clammy hands in yours and kiss his knuckles one by one.  
*Kiss* “We don’t have to go all the way today *kiss* but let me give you a present~ *kiss*and besides *kiss* nothing you do could ever be ‘bad’ I love you *kiss* so much *Kiss* Azumane-chan.” *kiss*  
You look up from his fingers and Asahi swallows nosily at the hungry look on your face “What is the ‘p-present’?”

You smirk, releasing his hands and running them down his shoulders _just so,_ watching as he tries to cover the shiver your touch ignites.  
You lean forwards, pressing your breasts against his chest knowingly and suckling at your painfully-aroused boyfriend’s neck. “I thought I could go down on you Azumane-chan, would you like that?~”  
You purr appreciatively when his breath catches and he lets out a little whimper at your words.

“Azumane-chaaan.” You drawl out his name teasingly, slowly rolling your pelvis over his aching arousal just as teasingly _._ “You have to say that you want to~ otherwise I won’t do anything.”  
Asahi makes an embarrassed sound, trying to cover his impressively scarlet face with one large hand. He nods jerkily and that’s all that you need.  
You push him down against the pillows of his bed gently and crawl over his body.

With Asahi it was all about easing him in to new things softly so you start with kissing his lips. Slowly making your way down his neck before pushing up his shirt so that you could get at those delectable abs.  
When you reach his bulging crotch you smile warmly up at him, willing him to trust you, to see your love for him in your expression. “I want to make you feel good, but just tell me to stop and I’ll stop straight away. Oh…..and tell me what you like too. I read some stuff but…yeah just tell me.”  
Asahi laughs behind his hand at the absurdity of the situation. His uber confident girlfriend is blushing at her own words. Even though he has to admit that this situation has surfaced in his fantasies a few times, (albeit without the maid costume, his imagination isn't that creative), it doesn't make this any less daunting.  
_What if the sounds he made were a turn off??!! or what if you thought his penis was weird or gross or-_

“Azumane-chan. _Relax,_ I can hear you thinking from here. It’s just me; there is nothing you could do to put me off. Love’s funny that way.”  
Asahi nods again, feeling his anxiety and doubts melt away when faced with the loving expression in your eyes.

You’re smile turns sultry again and you tug at his pants and underwear, clicking your tongue and ordering him to lift his hips up so you can get them off.  
The cold air of his room hits his now exposed arousal and he is torn between hiding his face and frantically searching _your_ face for some kind of negative reaction.  
He doesn’t find one. Your confidence is back with a vengeance and he doubts whether you even realize you just licked you lips. You hum appreciatively and can’t help teasing him a tad more. “Hmm fufu~ Azumane-chan you’ve been holding out on me.”  
He really does hide his face this time, with an unintelligible whimper at his vulnerable position.

He can’t help the full on twitch as your breath ghosts across his aching member. “Thanks for the food master.~”  
His breath leaves him in a gasp as your lips press against the head of his cock, your warm tongue swirling around the tip in such a way that he has to clap a hand over his mouth to stifle the moan that threatens to spill out.  
_Jesus-shit! That felt good._

Your eyes flick to the side to where his free hand is twitching with every movement of your tongue and smile. Those late night google sessions had been worth it.  
You pull back and lick one wet stripe along the underside of his cock from the base to the tip, tentatively massaging his balls with your free hand. He seems to like that, a lot. If the low keen of your name is anything to go by. “[N-Name]-san! Ahn-feels….g-good.”

“The noises you make are so cute Azumane-chan.~” You ignore his wordless protest at your frankness and dip down to engulf his entire length into your hot mouth as much as possible. Bobbing your head up and down and working what you can’t fit into your mouth with your hands.  
This was fun! You had barely tried any of the tricks you had learnt and he was already coming apart at the seams.

“hah….ahn! [N-name]-san….feels…feels ss-so- good.”  
You giggle around him and the vibrations make his free hand jump to your hair and it’s shaking from the effort of not ramming his hips up against you. He refuses to hurt his precious girlfriend. But it’s hard to fight against, especially when you go faster like that, when you become more aggressive like that. He is sure he’s whimpering loudly by now, but he’s finding it difficult to stay grounded when his body is experiencing this much pleasure.

He cracks his eyes open, and through his hazy vision his eyes fall on your mouth and the way your lips are stretched around his cock, the dark fringe of your lashes against the tops of your cheek bones. You must feel his gaze on you because your eyes snap up to meet his and they are burning with arousal. In an instant everything Asahi ever thought erotic crashes and burns, and he knows what he is going to be dreaming about from now on. Because nothing could ever be as mind numbingly erotic as that. He can’t look away.

He gives a strangled cry when you relax so much that he hits the back of your throat.  
He’s on the brink, you can feel his cock throb in your grasp and increase your pace until, with a breathless groan, he spills himself into your waiting mouth.  
The taste isn’t the greatest, so you swallow quickly then pull back to admire your deliciously debauched boyfriend.  
His spent cock is resting against his thigh, his hair has escaped and bits of it are sticking to his forehead, his face is still flushed pink. It’s all unbearably endearing.

You pull up his pants and straighten out his shirt in a way that is almost motherly as he recollects himself. Asahi smiles tiredly and opens his arms in invitation.

You’re quick to take him up on cuddles and snuggle up to his side. Idly playing with the collar of his school shirt and brushing the stray hair off his forehead. “So was that…good?”  
If you could read anything into his actions it had been, but you still want to hear it from his mouth.  
He bashfully averts his soft brown eyes and nods shakily. “It was.”

“Good.” You bury your face into his neck and breathe in his scent, fully prepared to sleep if that what he wants, even though this outfit is starting to feel uncomfortable. It’s not exactly sleepwear.  
Asahi takes a shaky breath and his hands slide from the familiar territory of your waist to grip your ass timidly. “I should….make you feel good too right?”  
_Ah yes, hello sudden arousal how I have missed you._  
You giggle, pulling back to find him flushed and bashful, but with a determination that spells delicious things for you. “If you want.~”  
You have a feeling this is going to be a good night…

 

~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm doing non-smut ones too okay, I'm just a thirsty person at this point and writing these are fun :)  
> Keep tuned for new ones :)


	4. Anything for you (Yamazaki Sousuke )

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He prided himself on being a dedicated boyfriend, and if you asked him to go get you tampons, he would damn well buy tampons- and chocolate bars, and hot patches and your favorite biscuits. Nothing was too excessive when it came to you, especially when you were feeling poorly.

Sousuke walks into the hygiene isle of the local supermarket without even blinking. Grabbing a pack of tampons and one of pads with ease and putting them in his basket.

He prided himself on being a dedicated boyfriend, and if you asked him to go get you tampons, he would damn well buy tampons- _and chocolate bars, and hot patches and your favorite biscuits._ Nothing was too excessive when it came to you, especially when you were feeling poorly.

He had no idea why other guys found this mortifying, he was proud that you relied on him to take care of you and the checkout worker didn't even blink when she beeped them through.

 He arrives at your house to find you wrapped up in blankets on the sofa. TV switched on, watching teary eyed as Jasmine and Aladdin share a kiss.You always got a bit sensitive at your time of the month. Sousuke had yet to admit that he thought it was actually pretty adorable.

He was about to call out to you when you close your eyes, throwing back your head with a groan and furrowed eyebrows at the ache in your lower torso. You feel so shitty. _(Cramps are of course, universally acknowledged as the hell spawn of Satan.)_

 Sousuke’s lips thin out. he hates seeing you in pain. It had only been after practice that he had gotten your text, saying that you had gone home at lunch time with bad stomach cramps. How long had you been feeling like this before he had got here?  
He sits down next to you and you open your eyes in shock. But recognizing your giant boyfriend your face splits into a smile; the one that never fails to do strange this to his heart rate. “Sou you got my SOS!”

“Mm.” His eyes narrow slightly when he takes a closer look at you “Are you wearing my T-shirt?”

You flush slightly, and rub the back of your neck. “Um yea, it smells good you know? Er wait- that’s probably a weird thing to say…”

Sousuke smirks but doesn't say anything to assure you because your blushing face is ridiculously cute. - _Although,_ he has to admit that he’s guilty of snuggling up against his pillows after you come over to his dorm room every now and then- or more like every time. Rin had even started teasing him about his “grossly in-love face” whenever he caught him. But he can’t help it if you smell good!

He smiles faintly and pulls you towards him so he can rest his head atop yours. Placing the shopping bag in your lap and watching with fond eyes as you excitedly rummage through it. Exclaiming when you find the food. “Ah! yaassss chocolate!”

He chuckles into your hair, hands swirling absent minded patterns across your bare arms as he turns his attention to the screen. “So what are we watching?”

“Well it’s finished now but we're watching this one next.” You hold up Mulan with a closed eyed grin, expecting him to protest at your choice. But Sousuke just shrugs and tucks you up tighter in the blankets, trying his best to make you more comfortable, his chest swelling in pride when you make a happy noise in the back of your throat and curl up against him.

As the opening scene lights up the screen you scuffle through the chocolate bars, turning to offer him one which a declines, he doesn’t really like sweet things. Not that you care, more for you!

Sousuke dozes through the movie. Tired from practice and lulled by the sound of your even breathing. You don’t mind, he always went above and beyond the call of duty as your boyfriend. And besides, it’s cute how tightly he holds you when his eyes slip closed. Even his body can’t deny how whipped he is.

You smile and reach up to softly caress his cheek, eye’s glowing with affection when he snuffles in his sleep and nuzzles into your hand.

“Love you Sou, you’re so good to me.”

He’s so far gone he doesn't wake, but a barely there smile touches his lips as if he can still hear you, murmuring some indistinct babblings that sound suspiciously like your name.

“So lucky,” you whisper “I Love you so much Sousuke.”

You feel so warm and loved and needed. Sousuke is a special person to make you feel this content, even when nature is torturing you.

You sigh happily, feeling sleep overcome you too, how can it not? Safe and comfortable in his strong arms; breathing in his smell, the one that was uniquely Sousuke. His deodorant, that little hint of chlorine that never quite rinsed out, and the boyish, musky smell that always clung to his skin.

The last thing you see before you close your eyes is his peaceful face, a small smile still gracing his lips.

“Love..you…Sousuke…..Love y..ou so…mmu……………“

 

~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I work at a supermarket at checkout and every time a see guys buying pads/tampons for their partners i have an internal squee, it's really cute! sorry if this ones kinda random but it's just something I thought up.


	5. Misunderstanding (Tsukishima Kei)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You crush the impulse to fidget uncomfortably under the boys piercing amber gaze and give a lopsided smile.
> 
> “I need to talk to you, is this a bad time? Can you wait after school? It’s kinda important….”

_Nothing_ would _ever_ fill Tsukishima Kei with more embarrassment than what the team had dubbed “The misunderstanding”

 “Tsukishima Kei right?” Tsukishima looks up from his desk, glare already in place.

Why was this chick bothering him? He’s never talked to you before and surely the book/headphones/pissed of expression combo communicated the ‘don’t talk to me peasant’ vibe he was going for.

_What the hell does this girl want?_

 You crush the impulse to fidget uncomfortably under the boys piercing amber gaze and give a lopsided smile.

“I need to talk to you, is this a bad time? Can you wait after school? It’s kinda important….”

Wow you were rambling, why were you so nervous? Good thing you had perfected your poker face.

When he still doesn’t acknowledge you, you just sigh. Your annoyance creeping into your voice “Good talk Tsukishima, wait for me please,” you spit out. Turning on your heel to join your friends by the classroom windows.

 Throughout the lessons of the day Tsukishima watches you surreptitiously from the corner of his eye, the wheels in his head turning. Trying to analyse what went wrong in his ‘vibe’ that made you think he wanted to talk to some random after school

_…….A confession?_

He supposes that is the only logical explanation. Lots of girls have confessed to him. They thought he was ‘cool’ or something. Always going on about how tall he was. He had no interest in dating any of them. When he had rejected them, some had even cried! Just about the _most_ annoying thing a girl could do. He decides he isn’t even going to bother waiting for you and just hope he doesn't run into you before practice. That would be troublesome, from what little he had gleaned from his experiences with girls they didn’t like to be stood up. But maybe that would send the message that he wasn’t interested? He certainly hopes so.

 You go through school like usual, your slightly bad mood (which didn’t have anything to do with a certain rude blond oh no) wearing off as you muck around with your friends and ace your long dreaded calculus test.

But when the blond prick doesn’t wait behind after classes end your mood plummets right back down to where it had begun the day.

“Why him??!!” you grumble and your friends give you pitying looks. (“Maybe you could just forget him?”)

“I can’t! It’s not like I wanted this!”

The next day you’re at his desk again. Trying to get the sullen blond to at least acknowledge you let alone string two words together that aren’t sarcastic. The freckly kid who sits behind him keeps trying to peek at you over his book, not noticing it is upside-down. You roll your eyes wondering what bullshit Tsukishima had told him about you. It can’t have been good that’s for sure. This lanky asshole seems to hate the sight of you.

You growl when you are, again, confronted with an empty classroom at the end of the day.

“Right. That prick does volleyball doesn’t he? This is freaking ridicules! I don’t care if he doesn’t want to talk to me, he is going to talk to me god damn it!”

 

“Excuse me is Tsukishima Kei here?”

Tsukishima turns towards the open gymnasium door from where he stands with the rest of the team as they watch the captain’s demonstration. The annoying girl from earlier is there with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. Tsukishima’s eye twitches. Who did you think you were? Just because you were passably attractive, with a cute face or something, not that he had noticed. Now you’re even following him to practice! Stupid girl couldn’t leave well enough alone.

The idiotic gasps from Tanaka and Nishinoya, and Hinata’s strangled squawk of " _pretty_!" only further his bad mood. He stomps over towards and past you, grabbing your arm roughly as he goes. He tugs you away from the eyes of his teammates ignoring your protests till he thinks he’s far enough that they can’t be heard before turning on you with cold fire in his eyes.

“Look I’m not interested alright? It doesn’t matter what you say, you’re not my type and you’re annoying as hell so just **Leave. Me. Alone.** "

Tsukishima takes a deep breath, annoyed he let his anger get the better of him, he never yells at people. Always retaining his composed _‘I’m judging you’_ persona but never lashing out like this, yet here he is.

 You try to keep the smile off your face but you probably aren’t successful because Tsukishima looks ready to bop you one. You suppose the prick deserves some kind of explanation.

“Right…That’s um…awesome. _So anyway_ what part of the assignment do you want to do?”

God you wish you had a camera, the way Tsukishima’s face slides from surprise to realization to mortification truly is a thing of beauty. Dumbass thought you were chasing him around to _confess?_

The great guffaw of laughter and an amused “oh dear” from his eavesdropping teammates around the corner is just the cherry on the cake.

 Tsukishima whirls around to catch his teammates wiping tears from their eyes and seriously considers running away and changing his name to Mr. Nesbit. But he refrains and just pushes up his glasses with as much dignity he can muster in this situation (which is admittedly not all that much).

“Erm Yes, what assignment would you be speaking of?”

You decide to cut him some slack and just rattle off the details. “You weren’t here the other day and the teacher paired us together for the history project. I thought we could exchange numbers and organise a time to work on it in the library? Oh I’m [name] by the way, I look forward to working with you.”

Tsukishima can still hear Hinata giggling, and a weird choking sound that he supposes is the King's laugh, as he fishes out his phone from his pockets and punches in the number you read out with numb fingers.

_This isn’t happening this isn’t happening._

 “I’ll text you later okay; I really want to get a good mark on this so you better show up when I tell you. It was nice to meet you.”

You hitch your bag up higher on your shoulder and turn on your heel with a slight head toss. (But really could you be blamed? Prick needed to be taken down a couple of levels.)

 As soon as you're out of sight laughter erupts behind him. Tanaka and Nishinoya run over followed by the rest of the team. They slap him on the back and re-enacted their favourite parts of the whole fiasco. Even Daichi and Suga are trying to stifle smiles and Tsukishima just wants the ground to swallow him up, or at least, punch Kageyama’s smug face.

“Okay okay let’s get back to practice. Yes, yes it was very funny, Tanaka show some restraint please you’re a senpai here”

Nope, nothing would ever come close to being as embarrassing as 'the Misunderstanding'.


	6. His dream girl (Hazuki Nagisa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Contains NSFW Material~
> 
> You’re confused. Everything at Nagisa’s place is like it always is but Nagisa still has a weird vibe around him, he blushes periodically and every time you lean over him to grab some more chips he freezes unnaturally and stops breathing. Do you smell bad or something?
> 
> His sisters mooch around the kitchen/living room area and keep giggling uncontrollably at something, but you honestly have no idea what’s so funny. You win every game easily but you can’t really brag about it because Nagisa is so damn distracted!
> 
> “Hey [Name]-san why don’t you sleep over tonight?” You turn on the living room sofa and meet the gaze of Nagisa’s oldest sister. “Huh?”

“[Name]-chan, [Name]-chan!!!”

You look up from candy crush in time to see a blur of blond locks before you’re engulfed in a hyper-active, giggling body. 

“Oh, hey Nagisa sleep well?”

Your childhood friend pulls back and pirouettes happily. “I had the best sleep ever!!! But my dream was really weird! [Name]-chan was there and so was Rei-chan and we were penguins-“

“That’s enough Nagisa-kun you’re going to give her a headache.”

A harassed looking Rei pulls the excitable blond back to a respectable distance and nods apologetically to the other early morning passengers on the platform.

Nagisa pouts at Rei and they seem to be engaging in some silent conversation (which Rei is losing).

 You’ve been friends with Nagisa since you were eight years old and wearing your older brother’s hand-me-downs as you two scampered about the playground, so being well versed in Nagisa’s weird quirks you shrug and go back to your game.

The train arrives and you board behind the other two with a yawn. The train is packed but Nagisa manages to find two empty seats in the last carriage. He waves you over with a smile and proudly offers the other seat to you.

“Ne [name]-chan this way we can sit next to each other!”

You raise your eyebrows at him then glance down at Rei’s overflowing backpack and bulky physics model he no doubt spent a heinous amount of time on. You jerk your head to the empty seat Nagisa is patting enthusiastically.

“You have it,” you mutter and Rei’s face lights up in relief

“Thank you [name]-san.”

Nagisa is pouty for the rest of the journey but flatly refuses to tell you what’s wrong, honestly sometimes you have no idea what’s going on through that energizer bunny’s mind.

 

“We’re still doing game night tonight right?”

Swim club has finished and you wait for Nagisa to finish changing with your back to the boys, your eyes on the phone in your hands.

Nagisa makes a mock-outraged sound from where he stands with his shirt half on. “Of course {Name}-chan, how could you think otherwise?!”

You laugh “Sorry, sorry. Pizza?”

“And ice-cream!”

“Sounds good.”

The others leave with tired waves leaving you and your best friend in comfortable silence.

When the rustling pauses you spin around on the bench you’re sitting on “Finished?.....oh.”

Nagisa, who is in the middle of pulling on his boxers stumbles over his discarded jammers in his panic to cover himself, and ends up sprawled on the floor. Perky butt exposed and his arms flailing comically. You drop your phone with a clunk that makes you wince and cover your eyes. “Oh my God I’m sorry I thought you were done!”

You hear Nagisa’s strained laughter and more rustling as he makes himself presentable.

His voice is meekly embarrassed “Finished.”

You pull away your hands; Nagisa scratches his faintly pink cheek nervously, now fully clothed and buzzing with a nervous energy that makes you cringe. God why were you so awkward?

The hilarity of the situation hits you and you can’t help yourself from cracking up, Nagisa flushes redder but joins in the laughter, tackling you off the bench in a tickle attack that has you gasping for him to stop.

“Nagisa-N-nagisa…! Ahh, sto-“

His weight is off you in a second and you’re dazed as to what made him jerk off you like you that -like you were something particularly disgusting. Like a slug.

“Nagi?”

Nagisa stares at you for a few second before jolting and giving you a weak smile that quickly grows in confidence “Ah! It’s nothing, come on lets go {name}-chan, we wouldn’t want to miss the ‘Great Mario kart champion’s’ demise would we?”

You stand and dust yourself off, punching his shoulder gently, “well see about that Hazuki you better be ready to lose.”

 

You’re confused. Everything at Nagisa’s place is like it always is but Nagisa still has a weird vibe around him, he blushes periodically and every time you lean over him to grab some more chips he freezes unnaturally and stops breathing. Do you smell bad or something?

His sisters mooch around the kitchen/living room area and keep giggling uncontrollably at something, but you honestly have no idea what’s so funny. You win every game easily but you can’t really brag about it because Nagisa is so damn distracted!

“Hey [Name]-san why don’t you sleep over tonight?” You turn on the living room sofa and meet the gaze of Nagisa’s oldest sister. “Huh?”

The other two try to hide their smiles and nod enthusiastically. “You used to all the time right? It will be like old times!”

Nagisa frowns “We were younger then!”

You turn your head to your best friend, surprised at his defensive attitude, it’s true that it’s been a few years, but it hasn’t been _that_ long. Doesn’t he want you to stay over?

You do end up staying over, at his sister’s demands. You take the first bath and you can practically see Nagisa flinch when his sister offers it to you. You really had to ask your girlfriends if you smelt bad the next time you saw them.

Nagisa is his normal self again as you two pull out the guest futon and bitch about your Trig teacher and sit up in bed telling each other the worst puns you can think off until it gets late enough to be ridicules. Good thing it’s the weekend.

Nagisa drops off immediately. Little bastard has always been able to sleep anytime, anywhere.

You try to punch your pillow into a more comfortable shape with a growl of annoyance but freeze when Nagisa whines softly in his sleep. Your first thought is that you woke him with your restless tossing and turning but your questioning “Nagisa?” goes unanswered until he does it again along with a full body shiver.

_Bad dream?_

You knew Nagisa talked in his sleep, courtesy of your many sleepovers as children. Nagisa whines again and rolls over so that he is facing you. Aw poor guy, no one deserved nightmares, especially not someone as caring as Nagisa.

Nagisa whimpers again but this time it sounds more like a moan. You sit up so you can see him on his higher bed. His mouth is slightly open and his cheeks are dappled with pink. Looking at him like this you can admit that your friend is attractive. Cute even.

His hand clenches around his pillow and he moans again, louder this time and mutters something you can’t quite catch.

  _……It’s a bad dream right?_

 “Ahn! ..feels good…. _ah_ yes!”

  _…………okay it’s not a bad dream._

You back up _fast_ , pulling your bedsheets with you, your heart in your mouth –which is open and gaping at your best friend.

Oh shit. Nagisa is having a dirty dream. WHEN YOU ARE IN THE SAME ROOM! Where you can see his expressions twist in arousal and hear his little pants against his dumb, animal shaped pillows. Oh shit oh shit you have to leave-now. You should have left five minutes ago!

 _“Ahn!_  [Name-chan..I like that…!”

 ……………………… **holy. fuck.**

 You freeze, the sound of your name moaned like that bouncing around your short circuited brain. _You-your best friend is having an erotic dream about you!_

“Ha-ahn! Fu-fuck [Name]..!”

Nagisa’s breathing has picked up, now outwardly squirming about his bed and lacing his pants with little breathy whimpers and you….you are over heated. Your face has been red and burning since you realized what was happening, becoming doubly red when you realized he was _dreaming about you._ But now your core flutters in arousal in response to the way he is moaning your name- _so desperate-so needy._ And you can’t see how this situation could get any worse.

You stand up with the intention of finally _getting the hell out of there_ but you freeze again when Nagisa gives a full-body twitch and a throaty moan before finally stilling with a sweet little smile on his face.

_Aaaaand now I’ve watched my best friend cumming. Great. A+ friendship skills._

Now that he’s finished you suppose there’s no longer a reason for you to leave. You creep over to you mattress again but your ninja tiptoe is disrupted when you catch your foot on Nagisa’s discarded school bag and you end up face planting onto the futon with a loud squawk.

Your best friends breathing changes, signalling his impeding awakening so with speed you did not know you possessed you drag your cover over you and turn to face the wall, holding your breath in terror.

 

You smiles up at him from where you're is positioned between his legs, your chin sticky with his pre-cum. Your voice is low and sultry as you trails your finger along his aching arousal teasingly. 

“Do you like that?”

You're is so perfect and so erotic and it’s all he can do to whimper, nodding helplessly. You tightens your grip on his length with a sadistic smile and shakes your head. “Naughty boy, you have to answer me.~”

You ducks down and pulls him once again into your hot, wet mouth and Nagisa’s breath leaves him all at once.

“Ahn! ..feels good…. _ah_ yes!”

Your voice is a purr “Good boy”

You crawls over him, wiping the stickiness off your mouth and pressing a line of wet kisses along his neck. Nagisa can feel the swell of your breasts against his bare chest and his hands clench into your hips, trying to align your bodies so he can _finally_ be inside you, needing more of you. You realizes how desperate he is and sits up, taking him in your hand and positioning his head at your glistening entrance with a gentle smile. “I Love you Nagisa”

Nagisa is sure his breath hitches in his throat as he gazes up at his lover through damp eyes. _You're finally his lover, after all those years of pining._

You lower herself onto his hard cock with a moan of his name and Nagisa throws back his head, gasping at the feeling of your walls clenching around him.

You rock together, whispering loving confessions and panting in mutual ecstasy and it feels so right and so perfect and Nagisa loves this girl more than anything.

You break the desperate kisses to suck at the skin below his ear. Pumping your hips faster into his. Your gentle curious lovemaking seems to have ended as you rides him hard and fast and it's all he can do to gasp out moan after moan.

 _“Ahn!_   [Name]-chan..I like that…!”

He snaps his hips upwards into yours and he is swearing now at how _amazing_ it feels and then it’s over with a last moan against your neck.

Then the image of you leaning down to kiss him sleepily is fading into one of his dark bedroom and Nagisa blinks in confusion. What-?

He freezes as he becomes aware of the wetness in his Pajamas, your still form on the guest futon, and he wants to curl up and die. Hot embarrassment, guilt, disgust coils itself in his abdomen and-and a wistful kind of sadness. The one he has had to live with for at least four years. It’s usually a dull ache but lately it’s all he can think about. He curls up in his blankets and lets a distressed sound escape him.

Of course this would happen. When you were being so appealing today, flushed and breathless and calling his name when he tickled you in the clubroom. Smelling so good when you sat next to him on the sofa, touching him without thinking anything of it, leaning over him heedless of the way your breasts would brush his shoulders reaching for the food. Making him blush even as his older sisters (the witches), giggled and snapped secret photos of his distress. Taking the bath before him and permeating your smell even there.

He had thought (hoped) that his impromptu jack off session would have stopped this (lately) nightly occurrence but not so. Someone must hate him upstairs. (And by that he meant the big guy, not his sister Futa-chan)

Nagisa sighs, thanking his lucky stars that you didn’t wake up. Taking the opportunity to tiptoe around his bedroom to open his draws and change his sleep pants. Hopefully you don't notice the change in the morning. But then again, you weren’t the most…er, awake when it came to details. Like the _tiny_ detail that he had been in love with you for four years, maybe more, if you count the weird obsession/affection thing he had had for you when he was little counts. Despite Rei’s insistence that he ‘ _just needed to tell her’_ it's scary. To potentially break a friendship he treasured so much and- _he needed to sleep._

Now was not the time to be agonizing over such a thing.

 _I will tell her one day, just not today….or tomorrow…or..._  And just like that he slipped back under into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

 

You don’t move long after Nagisa’s soft inhales and exhales deepen in sleep once again. You nuzzle against your pillows to try and sooth your aching head. Questions tangle together and keep you awake long into the night. _Does he have those dreams often? Are they about me? Does he like me or am I just in them for lack of someone better?_ And finally _how do I feel about this revelation?_

There questions for another day. Preferably when you're not dead tired and still slightly aroused from hearing your best friend cum in his pants…. _Yeah probably not a good idea to think about this now._

With that you fall into a fitful sleep, agonizing over how you should act when you wake up…

God your life was weird.

 

~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to have some of the one-shots connect so this one and the others will show little bits about how reader-chan got together with the sexy sports boys and what happens after etc. Every time i right for a new character it won't always start at the beginning or whatever but I like the idea of getting different one-shots about the relationship.  
> Tell me what you think of this one :) I really liked writing it, till next time <3


	7. Fancy seeing you here (Sugawara Koushi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Koushi darling mummy has to go, but you will be fine honey. Be strong for mummy okay?” The silver haired boy is shaking his head, snot dribbling out of his nose and his mouth wobbling in an unattractive line. You clench your chubby little fists and waddle towards them. The little boy’s watery brown eyes meet yours and you hold out your hand gruffly. “Come on.”
> 
> Florist Suga? Florist Suga. ;)

It is between first and second period when Sugawara sees the girl in the hallway. He hears her laugh and turns like a puppet on a string towards that sound, because he knows that sound….somehow. That’s when your eyes meet and all of a sudden he is five years old again. Timid, clutching his mother’s skirts on his first day of kindergarten.

 

You frown and pout your lips as your mother bends to kiss your cheek.

“I’ll be back at the end of the day sweetie and we can get an ice-cream because you were such a brave girl today okay?”

You look at the floor and nod, you were a big girl, and you weren’t going to cry like the silver haired kid to your right. Refusing to let go of his mother’s skirts and sniffling quietly.

Your mother leaves with a wave and a smile but the boy to your right still won’t let go of his. Your five year old mind can’t come up with any solution so you stand awkwardly watching the two interact.

“Mummy please don’t go….”

“Koushi darling mummy has to go, but you will be fine honey. Be strong for mummy okay?” The silver haired boy is shaking his head, snot dribbling out of his nose and his mouth wobbling in an unattractive line. You clench your chubby little fists and waddle towards them. The little boy’s watery brown eyes meet yours and you hold out your hand gruffly. “Come on.”

When the silver haired boy doesn’t take your hand you grab it and jerk him towards you. “come _on._ ”

Wide brown eyes stare at you in shock, tears still trailing down his face while his mother looks on with an amusement  you don’t see from your short vantage point. “Why don’t you go with your new friend Koushi-chan? Mummy will be here at the end of the day to pick you up.”

You pat his wet cheeks with your small sticky palms, (which really only smears the wetness on his cheeks instead off cleaning it) and pull him along to the reading corner. You clumsily try to make the boy smile, or at least stop his little wide-eyed whimpers. By the third book ‘Koushi-chan’ is smiling angelically, latched onto your arm as you read out _‘The very hungry caterpillar’_ in a halting voice.  He falls asleep on the cushions, his hand still clenched around your sleeve.

After that first day Sugawara Koushi never cried when his mother left, instead he would smile brightly at you and toddle over to wherever you were. He followed you everywhere, from the playdough table to the sand pit. He made you flower crowns, _(“They’re not weeds [Name]-chan!”)_ and insisted on being your husband every time you played house, sulking if one of your other friends played ‘husband and wife’ with you instead.

Now a third year in high school and looking straight at you Suga is filled with embarrassment. Looking back he is sure you had only put up with his clingy tendencies with good natured huffs and rolled eyes instead of actually _liking_ his company. He watches you laughing with a classmate and marvels at how much time can change a person’s physical appearance. He can still tell it is you but you stand with a confident grace that a  kindergartner on uncertain legs obviously hadn’t possessed. You hair is no longer in pigtails with sparkly clips and your shoes don’t light up with every step you take. _(Little Koushi-chan had always been jealous of those light up shoes)._

You were also now _very_ attractive, all long eyelashes and lips just begging to be kissed...

“Suga?”

Sugawara is pulled from his daze by a confused sounding Daichi. His dark haired friend gives him a strange look “Did you hear anything that I just said?”

Suga smiles bashfully “Sorry, no I had my mind on other things.” _Like oh my god I’m pretty sure I proposed to that girl over there with a cardboard ring and I’m having a tiny freakout because she may or may not remember that and wow I was an embarrassing child……_

Daichi gives him an unimpressed snort and swings his head around to try and discover what has made his friend look like a deer in the headlights, one that was blushing up to his ears for some reason…

His eyes light on your figure as you pause to grab a binder from a friend and give them a good natured slap with it. Daichi gives a low whistle. “Is that what made you go all loopy for a second there Suga? I’ve never seen you act like that around a girl…. mind you I can’t say I blame you. Who is she?”

Sugawara scratches his cheek in embarrassment. “Ahn... it’s just a girl I knew in kindergarten.”

Daichi looks back over to the corner and squints “I don’t think I’ve seen her before, she new here?”

Sugawara shrugs “Ah I guess?” _Damnit why is he still blushing??!_

Suga turns around but Daichi- _Daichi_ is still openly assessing this interesting new development.

 _"Daichi will you stop staring!!_ ” Sugawara hisses in his panic but it’s already too late.

“Koushi is that you?”

Suga whirls around desperately, trying to act like he wasn’t just staring at/talking about you not two seconds before. He’s not sure if he's remotely successful.

“Yeah, hey [Name-san.” He cringes at how falsely sunny he sounds, and tries to smile normally. He’s been told he has a nice smile and he hopes it distracts you from the red staining his cheeks. Daichi coughs and points to himself as if to say _you gonna introduce me_? and Suga is going to give his captain a piece of his mind when they’re alone.

“[Name]-san this is Sawamura Daichi, he captains the volleyball team I’m in.”

Suga watches as you smile disarmingly at his captain and exchange easy pleasantries a little wistfully.

You smile up at him and Sugawara swears everyone in the corridor can hear his heartbeat accelerate.

“Um Koushi-san, I-ah…don’t actually remember what your last name is so…..”

“It’s Sugawara, but its fine, if you wanna call me what you did before if you want…”

Dammit, Daichi is grinning so hard now. S _top, stop it you evil being._

You laugh, and even Daichi looks dazed for a second, but for the rest of the day you don’t call him his first name again, and for some reason it makes Suga restless.

He has no idea how he ends up having to deal with your eyes on him all through practice, making him nervous and clumsy and Daichi is having way too much fun with this. Even telling the impressionable Hinata that the reason Suga isn't acting normally is because of you. Which makes Hinata nod sagely and praise how grown up his senpai is. Having a girl that was all _Gwaaa_ come and watch him at practice as their little decoy so eloquently put it.

You rest your hand on your cheek and observe how the Karasuno team interacts. They're frankly adorable, like a big dysfunctional family and the eye candy aspect combines to make for an enjoyable afternoon. When they're done you move to help tidy up and wave away Suga’s assurances that “you really don’t have to [Name]-san”

It’s good to be doing something again, it’s good to have no one giving you pitying looks and lowering their voices when you arrive. This move is the best thing that could have happened. And really you had nowhere else to _go._

When the team starts leaving you flounder for an excuse to stay with Suga, anything really, you just don’t want to be alone.

“Can I come and say hello to your mum Suga-san? I haven’t seen her in ages.”

He looks surprised but not annoyed and that’s all that you need. “Sure I guess.”

The walk to Sugawara’s house is filled with silence, the nice kind that just gives room to think without thinking you need to fill it. The house is just the way you remember it. Nestled on top of his mother’s family florist. Here nostalgia holds the smell of tulips and lily of the valley. It’s a smell from your childhood and happier times.

“Oh [Name]-san it’s been so long!”

A women with Sugawara’s silver hair and bright smile leans out of the widow on the second floor. She gives a small wave.

“Hello Sugawara-san, it’s good to see you.”

“And you, and you! Come on in sweetie.”

You follow Suga past the shop window filled with glorious displays of green, orange, blue and pink and around to the side door which leads to the second floor-the residential part of the Sugawara household/shop combo.

Suga watches you with a small smile as his mother chats to you like you never moved away. It’s inevitable when his mother starts disclosing embarrassing information about him as a child but he has to draw the line somewhere….

_“Oh Koushi used to talk about you so often, it was so cute” “And then there was the time when he asked how old you had to be to get married-” “So adorable-” “We have pictures-” “And then-”_

“OKAAAAYYY we’re gonna go upstairs!” Suga grabs your hand and desperately tries to put as much distance between you and his traitorous mother.

You let yourself get pulled into his bedroom and watch with amusement as he shuts the door with a bang and breathes a sigh of relief.

You can’t hold in your laughter any longer and Suga throws a resigned grimace your way. “Sorry about that.”

You look around with interest at Sugawara’s room, not having been there for years. It’s all pastel blues and green, clean lines, with a homemade throw on the bed keeping the place from looking _too_ clean. You wander around looking over his large collection of books with interest while he stands awkwardly by the door and fidgets with his shirt sleeves. You watch him from the corner of your eye as he seems to come to some conclusion and begins unpacking his school bag, putting everything in its proper place with practiced efficiency, well that explains the cleanliness of the room.

You catch sight of a team photo on his shelf and snicker quietly to himself, what a mother hen. You ask about the team and he is happy to chatter about them and school and whatever else that crosses you minds. It’s so easy like this, talking with Koushi - _Sugawara_ , you’re not toddlers anymore you can’t call him something so casual or intimate. Regardless you slot together as if you never left, never went through.....all the stuff.

If there’s one thing that is clear from _one day_ into your reunion, it’s that Sugawara Koushi calms your mind and stops the little things, the reminders that make your mouth dry up and rip the bandages off the hole in your chest. Its, nice, it’s easy, you could stay staring up at his ceiling and talking about nothing and everything till morning. Side by side on his perfectly made bed.-You didn't think you had ever made your bed in your life...

But there’s an ending to every delusion and you can’t impose upon him any further as the shadows on the wall grow longer and Suga tries to hide a yawn.

“I should be off.”

“Really its fine, you can stay for dinner if you like.”

You shake your head “No, no I’ve annoyed you for long enough.”

Suga grins and rubs the back of his neck, an absurd blush painting his cheeks -absurd because there is no way _you_ can be the cause of it. The hug comes out of nowhere and Suga stiffens in surprise-but you’re so grateful, so grateful, today has been the calmest you have felt in a long time.  But this is Suga and he recovers quickly, returning your hug with light hands and a good natured laugh. The bizarre thought that he smells really good crosses your mind. Which is  _really weird_ because he just had practice and the smell of his sweat by all rights should _not_  make you feel tingly. Weird....

You leave quickly after that, with red ears and stammered goodbyes and you fail to notice the pining look Suga gives you as you let yourself out.

 After you’ve left Suga stands in the middle of his room and marvels at the ridiculousness of reviving a childhood crush in one day. It’s as ridiculous as the blush on his cheeks and his heart rate when you hugged him for what _four_ _seconds?_ but he can’t help it and Sugawara knows it’s only a matter of time before these feelings will swell up and overflow and _god_ he hopes at that time you are kind to his poor, silly, to-easily-swept away heart.

In the kitchen, after dinner, when he is reminiscing about the colour of your eyes his mother shakes her head, her eyes downcast. Her sigh like she carries the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“She’s such a strong girl.”

“Hmm?” Suga absentmindedly picks up a dishrag and dries the plates she cleans. His mind is full of the curve of your upper lip and the sound of your laugh and he doesn’t quite understand what his mother is talking about.

“-when I heard they had died my heart just went out to the poor girl you know? Both parents, I mean it doesn’t bare thinking about.”

“Wait, wait _what?_!”

His mother frowns “You know, the car crash last year, the one that killed [Name]-san’s family?”

Suga feels like he’s been kicked in the chest. His voice is tinny to his own ears. “I didn’t…what?”

“Well [Name]-san is living with her grandparents this year before she goes to university. I hear they’re lovely but you should keep an eye on her Koushi dear. I’m sure she’s hurting more than she lets on.”

Suga nods and tries to swallow past the lump in his throat. He is so mortified at himself -romanticizing such stupid, trivial things in his head while you are hurting so much.

“Of course, of course I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it took so long before i had time to write another one! I have mocks next week (boo) and i'm procrastinating by writing this :P Thank you so much to all the people that gave kudos on my stories so far and to the people hoping for continuations of this and the previous one-shot so far never fear! I have many plans for them in the future muhahaha!  
> If you wanna see me do a particular character form either Free! or Haikyuu!! feel free to let me no in a comment and though I wont guarantee i will do it sometimes it's nice to have a prompt or something? Anyway toodles!  
> P.S tell me if there's spelling mistakes, i hate it when i find them weeks later....


	8. The person I hate the most (Tsukishima Kei)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~NSFWish~ ~warning for bad language~  
> Continuation of the first Tsukki one-shot, enjoy :)
> 
> How the fuck had this happened? Tsukishima swears on his life he has never hated a person more. You're bossy, sarcastic, a complete pretentious no-it-all and god he is glad that in a week this stupid assignment will be over.
> 
> “Tsukishima are you even listening?”

How the fuck had this happened? Tsukishima swears on his life he has never hated a person more. You're bossy, sarcastic, a complete pretentious no-it-all and _god_ he is glad that in a week this stupid assignment will be over.

“Tsukishima are you even _listening_?”

The bespectacled boy glares at you over the poster on Heian culture and you glare right back. It’s not in your nature to back down to dinosaur loving tossers.

You click your tongue and go back to cutting out the tiny, fiddly gold fans you’ve come to hate so much over the course of this weekend. Your teachers had decided your next assignment had to be ‘creative and artsy’, not really either of your forte. But goddammit you were going to get a good mark for this stupid history project if it killed you.

Sure Tsukishima was smart and that helped, but couldn’t he be a little less of a jackass all the time? Would that be so hard?

The only good thing about this stupid study session was that you now knew about his ‘dinosaur thing’.  Tsukishima’s bedroom is clean and you would even call it severe if it weren’t for the band and movie posters littering the walls and shelf of Dino toys. -Oh sorry, _figures._

You give up gluing the stupid fans over Tsukishima’s paint job to smirk up at the shelf of Dinosaur figures. Your smirk turns into a grin as you point at one with three horns.

“What’s that one _Tsukki_ - _chan_?” Your mocking line of questioning is sure to raise hackles but for some reason getting the usually apathetic, gangly giant to get angry is strangely…..satisfying.

Tsukishima’s ears redden, and his glare becomes so sour that it could curdle milk. You lay your head on your hand and turn back to your work with an innocent smile he doesn’t believe for a second.

Tsukishima keeps glaring, regardless of the fact that you’ve moved on from your teasing and are now fighting with the glue bottle lid.

_God you’re so fucking annoying, so bossy, even if the way you sucked on your bottom lip while you concentrated was kinda….well…_

You look back up to ask if he’s finished with the ornate heading he is working on and Tsukishima realizes he’s been staring at you for too long, at your lips no less.

You frown, confused as his eyes dart back to his work, pushing his glasses up his nose in a rare nervous gesture.

Tsukishima mentally kicks himself, this had been happening more and more regularly over the span of this stupid pair project. He _had_ to get his shit together. Tsukishima didn’t do troublesome things. Period. And thinking you were…..cute- _shit that was hard to admit_ \- was just about the most troublesome thing he could imagine.

“What?” You’re already on the defensive, having been around the prick long enough that you’re ready for any salty replies before he even says them.

Tsukishima recoils and frantically searches for something appropriately dicky to say. He settles with-

“You done? Or do you need me to look over it to check you didn’t screw up?” Queue another round of glares and almost-synchronized ‘ _tsks_ ’. Honestly if you got through this without taking a swing at him it would be a miracle. _How_ he thought you were confessing to him that day you’ll never know, who the hell would want to date _him?_

 

This was bad. Very bad. Tsukishima was sitting at his desk trying to catch some shut eye before the next period when he found himself watching you laughing with your friends. He spotted a boy from the class down the corridor peeking at you through the door; Wearing an expression Tsukishima hoped he would _never_ make- All blushes and gooey eyes. Yuck.

The poor soul obviously had no idea how much of a pain in the ass you were, or how you called people you didn’t like by their last name, with no honorific. How rude was that?

 _"Tsukishima pay attention!_ ” Your voice echoes through his head and he grimaces. Then something happens that is completely out of the blue, he hears your voice again- the same whip like tone, but the words are different. Very different.“ _Tsukishima get on your knees! Don’t move until I tell you too.”_ Tsukishima represses a full body shiver and then  stares down at his desk in horror. What the fuck was that??

And then it gets even worse. One of his idiot classmates throws a ball to another- missing by miles. Tsukishima watches the ball sail through the air and hit you in the stomach. He then has to witness you chewing out the unfortunate boy for _five minutes_ , trying to squash the weird feeling of excitement as you snarl curse words into the cowering boys face, your eyes blazing and your cheeks flushed. There was something really wrong with him if _this_ was what got him hot and bothered. Jesus this development was never seeing the light of day.

 

Tsukishima is not happy. Last night he had dreamed about you, the person he hated! There may have been whips involved.

Throughout the day whenever the teacher asked a question and you inevitably put up your hand he found himself doing it too, till you were outright competing, midst glares to answer the confused teacher’s questions. During group discussion things got so heated you were both asked to stand outside in the corridor but you merely continued your argument in furious whispers. Hissing at each other like cats. There was one moment that came to him unbidden later that night. When your faces got so close together he could make out the patterns in your eyes and the shape of your lips snarling his name. Those images stayed with him longer then he would have liked and cropped up at inconvenient times. Like now for instance when he’s lying in bed, head phones on, trying to focus on the mellow beats but it just _won’t. go. Away._

Yes. Tsukishima had been dozing when the weirdest scenario of you ordering him to take his clothes off and kneel waltzed into his head and now he has a boner….

_Wow this is probably the lowest point in my life. Nope, it definitely is. I hate myself._

Tsukishima can’t-refuses to do anything about it and spends an uncomfortable few minutes trying to _will_ it away. He curses your name, this stupid project, your sexy voice- _oh for the love of all that is holy what was wrong with him!?_

 

You have no idea why Tsukishima is being so touchy today, you hadn’t even said anything yet and he was already ‘tsking’ and glaring and generally being a little whiny bitch about everything.

But he seems distracted, which is something so out of left field that you can’t help observing him as he writes out the hierarchy of the Heian court in his neatest handwriting. His brow slightly furrowed in a way that was….kinda cute. He drops his pen twice, banging his head on the desk on the way up and it’s you can do but stare. What is wrong with him today? Is he sick? Home troubles?

“Tsukishima-“

‘I’m fine.”

“….okay.”

Five minutes into the self-study session your teacher had imposed upon the class you can’t take Tsukishima’s clipped replies to your concern any longer. Not wanting to disturb anyone else with your inevitable row once you insistent on him telling you what was wrong, you place your hand over his, your smile sickly sweet.

“Tsukishima can you come outside please?”

Tsukishima flinches his hand back (wow rude) but rises and follows you obediently into the corridor, his shoulders hunched and his hands buried deep in his pockets. You feel a bit bad for snapping at him now that he is being so meek, as meek a Tsukishima got anyway. His expression still says he’d rather be anywhere else but here.

“So what’s up with you? Your acting super weird today and I can’t concentrate with you being all scatter-brained.”

“……”

“Oh my god Tsukishima will you freaking answer me?!”

You don’t see it coming. Pain shoots through you spine as Tsukishima lurches forward with a furious glare, grabbing you by your shoulders and slamming you against the wall.

You’re so shocked you say nothing, just let your mouth hang open slightly in silent surprise at this outburst. Where was apathetic Tsukishima? Or Snarky Tsukishima? Or I’m-going-to-disagree-with-you-till-the-grave Tsukishima?

Tsukishima is panting heavily, his face flushed like he’s been running for miles.

“What-“ 

He places one hand beside your head with a thud that makes you flinch and leans forward, his voice low and husky, his eyes burning.

_“What have you done to me?”_

“Um….I don’-“

“You’re always in my _fucking head!_ We’re always _fucking in my fucking head!_ God what is wrong with me?!”

You’ve never seen Tsukishima so agitated, his eyes are locked on yours- _wait did he just say he’s imagined fucking you?_

Right….okay…..what face should you be pulling now… Then a scenario flashes through your mind, Tsukishima on-top of you, inside you. Fucking you with the same tortured expression on his face as he curses and grunts and wow hello sudden arousal. A rush of pleasure shoots through your core as your eyes dip down to his lips, slightly parted as he sucks in shaky breaths. Yeah you could probably imagine kissing that….mmmm yes….very nice…

There’s three second were neither of you move, trying to grapple with the idea of doing _anything_ with the person who pisses you off the most. The heat is overwhelming and Tsukishima cracks first. He swears violently before grabbing your chin with his free hand and mashing your lips together. There’s too much tongue and your teeth clack painfully but oh my god your whole body zings with energy as you fight it out to be the one in control. _This_ is what you were looking for-someone who could handle you, someone who would fight to dominate you- a worthy opponent. Well game on.

 _This is so inappropriate._ But for some reason that just makes you all the more excited- the idea that you could be caught.

Tsukishima reaches down to grab a handful of your ass, making you squeal against his lips. You feel him smirk- _the bastard-_ and pull back to suck and kiss your way down his neck, biting hard on the juncture of his shoulder as punishment for laughing at you. Tsukishima growls a warning so you pull back and raise your eyebrow tauntingly. _Naawww had that hurt widdle Tsukki-chan?_ You’re still competing-even here. It seems neither of you is ever going to back down. But that’s fine with you, as long as all your arguments end like this.

“My turn.”

Tsukishima hand is still kneading the flesh of your ass so he drops his other hand down to join it, hoisting you up so that you have no choice but to wrap your legs around him. A rush of amusement and pride and arousal runs through your veins as you find him hard against you. Talk about self-esteem booster - _and perfect teasing material._

“Happy to see me are we.~?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You laugh at Tsukishima’s pink ears but it dies in your throat as he sucks red constellations on your neck, your shoulders, the tops of your breasts- anywhere he can easily reach.

You moan as he softly kisses one of the quickly purpling marks, your breath coming in sharp gasps. Your ashamed to admit you are whimpering softly into his ear. And Tsukishima's dick twitches in response, unconsciously grinding against you, but you're aware, _very_ aware of that heavenly friction. _Oh god don't stop._  But he pulls back, triumphantly, his haughty grin just aching to be smacked off his stupidly perfect lips.

“Happy to see me are we.~?” _Jerk._

The shrill ring of the bell and the impending stampede of students is the only thing that pulls you apart. You stare up at him still panting and flushed. Dark bruises are forming on his neck and shoulders. You grin wolfishly, At least you gave as good as you got. His hair is mussed and his lips are red from kissing, Its undeniably sexy. Neither of you says anything for a beat before Tsukishima’s face is schooled back to its usual lazy, apathetic expression. He turns abruptly and is swallowed by the sea of students moving to lunch.

You stare at the opposite wall and touch your fingers to your lips in wonder. Well that was unexpected. Pleasant, but unexpected.

You turn and catch sight of your reflection in the window.

_“Oh my fucking god Tsukishima how am I supposed to cover these?!”_


	9. Summer Kisses (Hazuki Nagisa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You watch Nagisa skip over to you, swinging his bag with each hop as he hums his latest obnoxious J-pop favorite, a harassed looking Rei speed-walking in his wake. You smile fondly at the way the poor boy has to apologize to the early morning commuters that have to the leap out of the way of the swinging bag of death.
> 
> “Ahn! [Name]-chan..I like that…!”
> 
> The easy-going smile slides off your face like Nagisa’s favourite double strawberry surprise sundae in midsummer, splattering against the concrete of the platform as you remember how the way he moaned your name had brought the tinny tones out in his voice, and exactly how he furrowed his brow when he came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the Nagisa one-shot as per request, now that I don't have exams I'm planning many more chapters for all our favorite anime boyfriends so stay tuned :)

“[Name]-chan you waited!”

You watch Nagisa skip over to you, swinging his bag with each hop as he hums his latest obnoxious J-pop favorite, a harassed looking Rei speed-walking in his wake. You smile fondly at the way the poor boy has to apologize to the early morning commuters that have to the leap out of the way of the swinging bag of death.

 _“Ahn!_ _[Name]-chan..I like that…!”_

The easy-going smile slides off your face like Nagisa’s favorite double strawberry surprise sundae in midsummer, splattering against the concrete of the platform as you remember how the way he moaned your name had brought the tinny tones out in his voice, and _exactly_ how he furrowed his brow when he came.

Nagisa skids to a stop in front of you all sun and smiles before he notices the distant look in your eyes and peers up at you with an exaggerated squint.

“[Name]? Hello? Anyone there?”

“Ah-yeah hey Nagisa, Rei-san.”

_Just act normal-just act normal no you did not watch your best friend cum in his pants while dreaming about you._

“Trains late.”

_Nagisa stands awfully close to you doesn’t he? Has he always done that or is this a new thing? Oh shit he’s waiting for you to answer._

“It….is….yeah.”

_………….wow so eloquent today…fuck._

Nagisa and Rei raise their eyebrows with such perfect synchronization it’s unnerving, your eyes light on Nagisa’s bright grin before they skitter off to the side. You just can’t, you can’t look at him right now.

Nagisa vibrates, his hands twitching at his sides before he seems to give into something and barrels into you with the strength of a small, giggly freight train. His body humming with energy, as if it was physically painful to not glomp you within 30 seconds of seeing you. You can’t help but tense up as his arms wrap around you, as he nuzzles into your neck and laments about Rei lecturing him for running in public places in his whiny, sing-song voice. The sound of your name, moaned in lilting breathless tones echoes around your head, bringing with it a confusing set of emotions. Buts its undeniable that pleasure and arousal are in the mix and you don’t know what to do with yourself, with these new feelings.

Nagisa frowns up at you from his slightly shorter height, noticing how tense and uncomfortable you are, you’ve never minded his snuggling tendencies before. Did he do something to upset you…..?

It’s awkward and stiff between you at school, even with Nagisa’s best efforts at keeping conversation going, and when you’re over at his place to study for your up and coming history test later that day it’s not much better...

 

Nagisa leans against your side as he skim reads the answers you scribbled down while he read out revision questions.

It’s obvious he doesn’t need to be pressed up to you like that to see what you’re written, which means he’s doing it purely because he _wants_ to. You can clearly see the dusting of pink on his cheeks and that just make it worse because now _you’re_ blushing and arrgggh!

“[Name]-chan, is…what’s wrong? Every time I get close you move away. Di-did I do something to upset you?”

“Nope nothing at all! Haha….”

“Are you sure?”

Nagisa grabs your face by the chin and scrutinizes it with a frown. “You’re lying to me….” His voice sounds so genuinely confused “Why are you-“

“I have to go.” It comes out much harsher than intended and Nagisa flinches, wrenching back his hand away from your skin like it burns to touch you.

You can’t look at his face anymore, not when it’s so obviously hurt. You begin shoving your things into your bag viciously, you just need to be alone, you just need some time to think, you just-

“Does [Name]-chan hate me now?” Nagisa’s voice is so small and strangled it hits you right in the gut and makes your skin crawl.

“Of course not, Nagi….I just, I need time to think…”

Nagisa’s shoulders cave in unhappily making him seem even smaller, but he gives a watery smile. “Okay.”

He doesn’t sound okay.

None of this is ‘okay’ but you still leave him there on the floor, in a small ball of unhappiness. You’re running out of excuses, maybe you’re just a shitty person…

 

[Name]-san I must ask you to stop this ridiculousness.”

You look up from the quiz you’d been doing on your phone to see an agitated Rei glaring down at you. You swing yourself around on the bench you’re sitting on to face him and begrudgingly put away your phone. You had really wanted to know what kind of fruit you would have been but you suppose saying that isn't going to make Rei leave you in peace…

Oh god Rei just did the stupid glasses tilt, that means he really meant business. Where were the other guys? It’s not often that they are late to practice, and if they _were_ it wold be over Haru’s dead body.

Rei frowns down at you, a huff spilling from his lips when you merely raise your eyebrows at him.  You’re not gonna give him any help with moving the conversation along. You stretch your arms above your head and scratch your cheek as you yawn, glancing around the deserted club-room with a bored expression.

“What ridiculousness would you be referring to Rei-san? I seem to remember you called my color scheme today's physics sheet ‘ridicules’ so if you would please inform me as to what I have done that is ‘ridicules’ this time that would be nice.”

Oops, Rei does not appreciate your condescending tone, if his eyebrow twitch is any indication. Your suspicions are confirmed when he explains why he got here early in a snappish tone.

“Nagisa has been whining all week about how you’ve been avoiding him and I think it is very immature of you to act like this, and more over-”

“Yeah sure and you talking to me hasn’t got _anything_ to do with the fact that you just want him to shut up and leave you alone.”

Rei freezes and you roll your eyes as he splutters nonsense, readjusting his glasses and waving his hands around his head.

“That’s-it’s neither here nor there so-I mean-“

“Nagisa had a wet dream about me.”

There you said it.

And actually it was almost worth it to see the flabbergasted expression on Rei’s face. He obviously wasn’t expecting that.

His voice is a barely audible squeak.

“ _What?!?”_

All the tension in your shoulders leaves you as your voice escapes between your teeth in a sigh that sounds more like a hiss. Rei is obviously trying to keep up with the sudden, bizarre change of topic but now that you’ve started talking you can’t stop.

“I went over to his house and he started moaning my name in his sleep. At this point I have watched my best friend cum while thinking about me so excuse me if I don’t know how to react to that!”

Your voice is getting louder as all your frustration claws its way out of your throat. You’re angry at yourself, your reactions, your shitty decisions, all at the expense of someone who has been with you for years, someone who you _love_. _Wait love? Like love-love?!_

“I-I see….”

Rei is oblivious to the storm in your head, it’s almost worth the embarrassment of telling the whole story just to see Rei floundering so very terribly in his mission to help the two of you make up, and some vicious part of you is smirking inside, your heads a mess, you’re irritated, and scared and confused…

A small, strangled squeak makes you both turn around with sharp intakes of breath, horrified at being caught having this conversation. And then everything turns to shit because the rest of the swim team has finally showed up.

 Makoto looks as mortified as you feel, Haru slightly uncomfortable but more interested in the prospect of swimming and Nagisa - _Nagisa_ is bright red, with tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, his bottom lip wobbling pitifully. Oh no, shit-god fucking dammit-

Nagisa turns and runs out of the locker room, dodging Makoto’s placating arm and ignoring Rei’s panicked exclamation.

You make no move to stop him, you’re frozen in place. Unable to shake the image of Nagisa almost crying with distress from your mind.

“[Name]-san please, can you talk to him? I think….he told us he didn’t want to lose you as a friend…”

 _What? No matter what you would still be friends right? This didn’t change anything right?_ But Makoto looks like someone just died, and it goes a long way in making you freak out about the whole situation.

“Right….of course…okay.”

In a daze you leave the others behind. Makoto wringing his hands, Rei chattering nervously and Haru with his usual piercing stare stabbing into the back of your head.

You make it outside and swing around desperately trying to locate the little blond midget. _If you were Nagisa where would you go….._

Nagisa has always had a habit of hiding in small places when he was upset as a child. You catch sight of the sports equipment shed and grimace – _bingo-_ this was not going to be pretty.

It’s not pretty.

He’s crouched down with his arms wrapped around his small frame.

“I’m sooo sorry,” he whines through his hands. Nagisa’s an ugly crier, all sniffles and hiccups and snot.

“I’m so sorry that I’m so gross! I didn’t mean too!!”

Your brain grinds to a halt “Gross? Nagisa I don’t think you’re gross!?”

Nagisa makes a small gap between his hands and peers out with hopeful eyes, “Y-you don’t?”

“No? I was….just surprised is all…”

“Oh.”

You crouch down beside him and speak softly, the way you might speak to a frightened animal. Drawing nonsense patterns in the dust on the floor to avoid looking at his flushed face and voice something that’s been bothering you ever since the fateful sleep over.

“Nagisa why me? I mean I’m not exactly like all the cute things you like so much and-“

Nagisa grabs your sleeve with his fist, his pink eyes wide and uncomprehending.

“What?! That’s not true [Name]-chan is very cute! I think…well I really like you and I just can’t help thinking it!!!”

You chuckle at his sincerity, using your sleeve to wipe away a string of snot below his nose and reaching up to fix his hair. It’s so soft against your fingers and Nagisa’s eyes are so bright from this close up, so pretty.

You smile, the smile that reminds Nagisa of summer and sunlight and surgery treats, the one he fell in love with as a small child, before he even knew what those words meant.

He catches your hands and stares at you seriously.

“[Name]-chan is cute. Don’t say you are not because what I feel is not wrong. My feelings are not wrong.”

“Nagisa it’s….it’s fine, I get it. And….thank you.”

Strange that you can know someone for your whole life and they can still surprise you, still make you feel mushy inside and bring a dorky smile to your face, one that you try to hide with a shrug and hand to cover your mouth. You stand up and dust yourself off, reaching down to pull Nagisa up beside you.

“So [Name]-chan will be my girlfriend?”

“Huh?” Oh yeah, you probably should have expected that question…

“[Name]-chan please be my girlfriend! I’ll give you half of my Iwatobi bread! No! Um… maybe one third! But I’ll share my snacks with you! I’ll let you win on Mario cart, just please!!! Please be my girlfriend!”

You snort with laughter but now Nagisa looks stricken so you quickly hold up your hands to stop the next barrage of words.

“I don’t like sweet things and I _don’t_ need you to let me win in Mario cart, I can do that fine by myself, but….. Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Nagisa almost sparkles with happiness. You smile lopsidedly in return because there is not a person on earth who can say Nagisa is not cute when he’s smiling. Even with watery eyes and a red nose. But in the soft afternoon light that filters through the shed’s high windows and over the dips and plans of his face and onto the tips of his hair till it shines like spun gold, he is angelic. So much so that you half expect wings of feather down to unfurl from his back. When you remember this moment years from now it will be in the golds and pinks of his coloring, of the afternoon sun, with smell of gym equipment and the grass in summer.

Nagisa fidgets, his hands curling into the bottom of his shirt in a rare display of nervousness that makes your heart twinge, it’s a good pain.

“Can…I kiss you..?”

You want to say something, something witty and memorable but your mind is full of the prospect of kissing your childhood friend and the swooping feeling in your stomach so you simply nod.

Nagisa kisses you then, with too much enthusiasm, and too much teeth, and the little blip of surprise he makes in the back of his throat when your lips connect is two parts adorable and hilarious. Just like Nagisa himself. You’re also fairly certain that he is on his tiptoes right now but you’re not gonna mention it if he doesn’t.

You place your hand against his chest and nudge him backwards so that you can whisper the words “Be gentle” against his soft mouth. He blushes red and nods, pausing a beat before his lips seek out yours again, this time softer, sweeter. Savoring the taste and feeling of golden, summer time kisses.

Nagisa’s hands slide up your arms and over your shoulders to rest gently against your cheek and all thoughts fly out the window, he’s being gentle now, more then you ever thought him capable of with his small wriggly body and it’s nice, grounding, and more _right_ then you could ever have imagined it. You smile into the kiss, enjoying the slide of lip on lip and the little breathy gasp Nagisa makes when you catch his bottom lip between your teeth then he’s back to his shattering enthusiasm, he kisses like nothing else is on his mind, you peek your eyes open and what you see gives you the same feeling you have around kittens or bunnies; a warm rush and an urge to snuggle. Nagisa’s brow is furrowed in concentration and his cheeks are stained a soft red, little gasps falling from his mouth like summer showers, it’s all so incredibly endearing.

“Erm, I need to get the high jump equipment, so not to interrupt your make out session but…..”

An uncomfortable looking third year stands in the open doorway, pointedly staring at the opposite wall and not at your mortified faces.

Nagisa recovers first, pointing at your face with a massive soppy smile. Embarrassingly unaware of his ruffled hair and red kissed mouth.

“This is my girlfriend.”

The third year looks bored and scratches his neck “…Congratulations. Can you move now?”

“Sure thing.” You grab Nagisa’s arm and drag him out of there and into the sunlight. Nagisa is grinning like a manic and waves to where the female soccer team practices their stretches on the nearby field….

“This is my girlfriend!”

…And to the new Biology teacher walking past the swimming club building…

“My girlfriend! Her! She’s with me!”

You push him inside so that he can’t inflict anymore damage to your reputation. Pausing to gather your thoughts before sighing and following him in to where the rest of the swim club is crowding around your new dork boyfriend, smiles ranging from relieved to mildly amused.

Nagisa reaches for you, pulling you against his chest and wagging his finger at his teammates as if they are naughty school children.

“None of you can touch my cute [Name]-chan alright!”

“Sure thing Nagisa.”

You roll your eyes at your boyfriend, you’ve signed up for a lot. But looking at Nagisa’s smiling face, you’re sure it’s nothing you can’t handle.

Haru huffs in agitation “Can we swim now?”

“Haru!”

 


	10. Not supposed to be like this (Yamaguchi Tadashi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ya-ma-ch-an~ You have a girlfriend?”  
> That got his attention. Yamaguchi’s head spun around so fast he must have given himself whiplash, his brown eyes wide and incredulous.
> 
> “Boyfriend?”
> 
> Yamaguchi gives a little shake of his head which makes his hair whip against his temples, a dark flush creeping up his neck. That makes you want to bite it, mark it purple and red, see the stain of your lips across his collarbones, his shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a request for a Yamaguchi shot on the beach but I couldn't think up a reason for Yama-chan to be anywhere near a beach while being a high school student in the country-ish and I wanted to write a piece with pining!Yamaguchi so this came about, but a beach will most likely pop up later on down the line with other Yama shots. In the meantime enjoy this one!

Yamaguchi fidgets with the hem of his Shimada Mart apron and wonders what he did to offend the powers that be. Because _of course_ you would also work the same shift as him -every Saturday and Monday afternoon from four till nine. And _of course_ you would somehow manage to make the ugly green thing tied over your school uniform look attractive. Oh god why did it have to be you???

Now Yamaguchi doesn’t dislike you, not by a long shot, but you were one of the most sort after senpais at Karasuno high school. And Yamaguchi is just one in a line of many, many individuals that have crushes on you -he’s sure of it- and Yamaguchi is under no disillusion as to where he falls on the list of applicants for the privilege of being with you.

“Yama-chan come help me rotate the stock.”

“A-ah yes!”

Yamaguchi winces at the squeak he couldn’t quite keep out of his voice, god working with you- just being in the same vicinity- was a long depressing slog of embarrassing instances.  And he’s not too impressed with his nickname, not because he doesn’t like the way you say it – _he could listen to your voice for hours._ But it’s obvious that you don’t see him as anything remotely close to manly.

Always cooing over his freckles and pinching his cheeks. Now Yamaguchi wouldn’t really mind that either but the troupe of your admirers always gave him withering looks whenever you did, or even worse smirked behind their hands.

Like the time you had surprised him and he had dropped a whole box of coke on his foot, and then had to suffer through 15 minutes of you insisting you help him ice and bandage his foot in the employee lounge while sporting a face red enough to be seen from space. He cringes as he remembers your voice saying “Oh Yama-chan you’re so cute and flustered!! I just wanna wrap you up in a blanket and feed you cookies!” While the boys who also work on Monday nights giggled over their watered down employee coffee.

Not exactly the cool capable boyfriend type by any means….

Yamaguchi follows you towards the milk display and you try to start small talk but Yamaguchi is distracted by the group of middle school boys who are openly ogling at you behind your back. And while Yamaguchi understands that you do look stupidly attractive even in the ugly green apron, he can’t help but think that eyes blatantly checking out your ass and their obscene hand gestures are somewhat inappropriate for work spaces.

He catches the eye of the kid who seems to be the boss of the little gang –the one in the snapback- and frowns but Yamaguchi was never born to be intimidating and the brat just grins.

“Yama-chan what’s wrong?”

“Ah-nothing, sorry what were you saying?”

“Hey Oneechan! Where are the condoms?”

The group behind you two snicker obnoxiously and the kid in the snapback tries to hide his stupid grin.

Yamaguchi is just about to lecture them about the importance of respecting people who are older than them when you stand up and dust of your knees, smiling your most professional smile.

“If you would just follow me.”

The kid looks taken aback, his eyes darting to his friends for help but they just fidget uncomfortably and watch.

Yamaguchi can’t help but trail behind the two of you as you locate the hygiene isle talking all the while in an upbeat voice.

“Do you know what kind you’re looking for? We have several sizes and it’s important to get the right one. We also have ribbed condoms for more pleasure and ones that come already lubed -oh do you need lube as well? This ones on sale today and-“

The kid makes a break for it his face steaming red and his buddies all follow him at a run wearing matching mortified expressions.

Yamaguchi can’t help but let slip a giggle at the whole scene, you catch his eye and grin. “Oh dear, did he get embarrassed?”

 

There are only three people who work the store on Monday this late at night; himself, the elderly Miss Yamada and you. And at 9:35pm on this particular Monday it’s dead. Miss Yamada near falling asleep at her post on the lone open checkout.

You gaze around the shop with disinterest, popping a cherry flavoured bubble against you lips before returning to watching Yamaguchi as he hums a pleasant melody under his breath, his long fingered hands arranging the last of the cans on the isle end display into perfect rows.

Tilting your head you observe the slope of his back, lips twitching at the way his slacks have shifted to sit too low over his hips, showing a strip of red cotton that makes your stomach clench wonderfully. Your eyes dip upwards to trace the delicate patterns of freckles on the back of his neck, wondering just how far down his body they go….

“Yama-chan I’m bored, wanna do something fun?”

“Hm?”

He still isn’t looking, how boring.

“Ya-ma-ch-an~ You have a girlfriend?”

That got his attention. Yamaguchi's head spun around so fast he must have given himself whiplash, his brown eyes wide and incredulous.

“Boyfriend?”

Yamaguchi gives a little shake of his head which makes his hair whip against his temples, a dark flush creeping up his neck. That makes you want to bite it, mark it purple and red, see the stain of your lips across his collarbones, his shoulders.

Yamaguchi's eyes are still so wide, the disbelief starting to morph into a kind of translucent curiosity that hints at desire; it’s enough for you to want to change that into true heat -into fire and sweat-soaked skin. You stifle a grin by biting at your bottom lip. You always did like a challenge.

 

Yamaguchi has no idea how he got himself into this …situation.

With your face so close to his, the smell of your skin like a drug that fogs his brain and makes him see mad pictures of him and you, the unimaginably unattainable crush, holding hands and having coffee shop dates. The colours soft and muted, looking at each other the way his parents sometimes do when they bake together or watch TV, leaning in to one another. That is not what is happening now.

He is backed up against the off-white wall of the Shimada mart employee lounge, the ugly kettle on the sink, the dated fridge holding forgotten, month-old microwavable meals that no one will claim.

Your hands are on his shoulders, gripping his hair and your mouth is moving over his with a fire that scorches all the way to his toes, never mind that he is nervous, that he doesn’t know where to put his hands, doesn’t know what is appropriate, what is allowed. He hasn’t kissed many girls before, and even then they had only been pecks, chaste and sweet in the playground or on middle school dares. This is not what is happening now; this is hungry and bruising, this is getting swept out by the tide and not caring if you drown even as you gasp for breath.

His stomach is a boiling mess of want and desire burning his lungs on each inhale. You pull back and watch with interest as a string of saliva that connects you together snaps and flicks against his bottom lip. Purring at his furrowed brow and disheveled hair that sticks out at odd angles and pastes to his forehead. Taking gasping breathes he braces himself against the wall, staring with wide, needy eyes. A wreck. A delicious wreck who’s throat bobs nervously at the spark of fire in your eyes.

“Yama-chan looks so….delicious like that~”

He shivers at the sinful glee in your voice, but can’t help but shake his head. He’s sweaty and nervous and _so_ out of his depth. How could he be attractive to anyone right now?

You prowl closer and Yamaguchi imagines it is because you have caught the scent of prey. _Easily lured, easily trapped._

You gaze at him through half lidded eyes, heavy with the weight of desire, lean in and breath into his ear, relishing in the shudders your breath ignites through his body.

“I like it when you get flustered. I like your cute freckles. I like how innocent you are.”

You pull back and stare straight into his soft brown eyes, a playful tilt to your lips that Yamaguchi will remember days from now, when his family is asleep and he is alone with his thoughts under the cover of darkness, and covers of another kind.

“Let me teach you some naughty things Yama-chan,~” you purr and Yamaguchi chokes on nothing but the way you say his name.

He stares as you kneel between his legs grinning like the Cheshire cat and never breaking eye contact. Realization cracks through his super-heated desire and he grabs for your hands, stilling them on his belt buckle.

“A-ah wait!”

“Do you not want to?”

Oh he does, he does, he would do anything to get your hands on him; he wants it so much he can barely remember his own name. But then he glances around the employee lounge. It’s not supposed to be here.

 He looks back at your face and your eyes say desire but nothing more than fleeting affection and curiosity. There is nothing deeper there and it hurts him more than it should, he barely knows anything about you, and you him.

This is a whim, and not something you have thought about in soft moments on the way back from school, at night in bed or in the shower like he has.  It’s a game, and the realization stabs him in the gut. But when is he ever going to have a chance like this again? He is a realist. He understands.

_Take what you can get._

You lick your lips and look up at him through your lashes, Yamaguchi imagines those lips around his cock, coaxing him to release…

His denial never stood a chance. Slowly he lets go of your hands, covering his face with his sweaty palms and sucking deep calming breathes. Well they’re supposed to be calming, but they are doing little to quell the fire in his veins, threatening to burst from his skin and engulf his body in flames.

“Yama-chan you have to say you want it otherwise I won’t do anything,” you purr in a sing-song voice.

Yamaguchi licks his cracked lips and chokes on his own breath in the rush to say it. “Please I want it so m-much senpai.”

“Good boy.”

His cock twitches at the praise, a small, needy whine rising from high in his throat.

You take him out of his slacks and boxers, willing yourself not to giggle at the little mortified moan that Yamaguchi can’t quite keep contained. You watch in amusement and arousal as pre-cum dribbles from the flushed tip. You’ve barely even touched him yet he is like this, this will be fun.

You take him into your hand, marveling at how hard he already is, and Yamaguchi gives a full body shudder, releasing a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding.

“Yama-chan why are you closing your eyes?”

A warm breath ghosts over his cock and Yamaguchi twitches, a rattling hiss that tapers off into a whimper of your name escaping from behind his teeth. His hands clench and unclench at his sides. He’s never been so turned on in all his life. When you start moving your hand in long firm strokes his knees almost buckle. It feels good, so good.

“Open them.” It’s not a request.  He peeks from behind his sweaty hands down at you, all confidence and sex and _oh my god he is not going to last long._ “Don’t look away.”

Obediently Yamaguchi watches with rising tension as your mouth comes closer and closer to his throbbing cock. Your other hand ducks down to lightly massage his balls, and without meaning to his hand fists into your hair. He’s trying so hard to be good, straining against the urge to thrust into that perfect wet heat that is slowly, agonizingly slowly engulfing his length, oh god it he can’t think, everything is sensation.

“P-please…so goo-more…please-ah!

His voice sounds strange to his own ears, high and thin and punctuated with whimpers and words he doesn’t- can’t recognize. Rising higher and higher as he climbs and climbs till he’s spasming, moaning something _-is it your name? Is that what he’s been saying all this time?_

“I’m gonna…[Name]!” His knees really do buckle this time, and he slides down the wall, a tangle of limbs like wet spaghetti, he couldn’t move if he tried.

You swallowed the salty liquid quickly and wipe the back of your hand across your chin. Standing with a yawn and your arms above your head in a stretch you grin down at Yamaguchi.

“Well that was fun.”

You make to leave the room but before you do you look back and smile the smile of a bad angel. A hint of amusement colouring your voice. “You might want to put your dick away, we close in two minutes.”

Yamaguchi blinks tiredly as he watches you leave. His body is content, sated. But his stomach feels….hollow. Not the way he should be feeling after getting blown in the employee lounge by the girl he’s been crushing on for the better part of half a year, and that’s just it. He’s been crushing on you for as long as he’s worked here and you decided it would be fun to fool around with him just because you were ‘bored’.

He feels tired and used and delicate as cracked china, as if a breath of wind would cause the hairline cracks in his skin to gape and crumble to powder around him. He’s never felt so vulnerable, like a nerve end rubbed raw and exposed to the open air.

He puts his head in his hands and crumples inward, a small sob aching out of his chest in the empty room. The lights flicker out. the store is officially closed. And now he’s in darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww writing this made me sad, my poor freckled baby!!!  
> BTW I work at a supermarket and this is inspired by my experiences there, minus the blowing of a cute boy in the employee lounge....  
> More one-shots to come, till next time reader-chan <3


	11. Dark corners (Tsukishima Kei)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re saying we aren’t done with making out in dark corners?” Heat floods your face at the same time it floods his body, waking up parts of him best left asleep in classroom settings. Even if all your classmates have made their way out the door by now.
> 
> “That’s not….I didn’t mean...” Gosh the humiliated tinge to your face is so very delightful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all the readers who commented and gave me kudos, this goes out to all of you. And to all the readers who wouldn't let me get away with not writing another part to the Tsukishima one. This is for you xox
> 
> Also this is the most explicit one-shot I think I've ever written so tell me what you think.  
> So it is VERY NSFW! You have been warned. Now scroll down and enjoy the smut ;)

You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers and let out a harassed puff of air. It’s summer, or just about, and even in the air conditioned classroom it is stinking hot. The kind that pastes hair to necks and makes your hands clammy, no matter how many times you wipe them off on your skirt.

Through the open classroom window the cicadas screams mingle with the tap tap tap of your pencil on the desk and the droning bass of your Lit teacher.

You’re barely paying attention to what the teacher is saying but it doesn’t matter, you’ve already done the readings. No, the thing that’s got your attention, or rather the boy that’s got your attention, is the blond asshole currently eyeing you sideways from across the room with a smug expression.

You finally crack and shoot Tsukishima a glare that would have frozen lesser men. Fiddling miserably with the edge of your scarf you try to pull it higher up your neck to hide the collection of bruises, the ones in the shape of a certain assholes lips.

Tsukishima is unaffected by your glare. He merely smirks, mouthing the words "nice scarf" and making you wonder _just how long_ a sentence for murder really is, and if it would be worth it… It wouldn’t be hard, just get rid of the glasses and you would be in for a chance of stabbing your pencil through his throat… But then would come the legal battles, and testimonies and really maybe this fantasy has gotten a bit out of control.

You wince as a drop of perspiration runs down the back of your neck and disappears past the collar of your shirt. Giving Tsukishima another glare as he replies to the teachers question in an emotionless voice.

Tsukishima has done nothing to cover up the mottled splotches of purple and yellow, wearing them with the same lazy contempt and self-assurance that he does everything. Managing to look cool even in this sweltering heat. It’s enough to make you want to slap him. That and the fact that you have been replaying the kiss over and over again in your mind for a week now, each time it steals your breath away and fills you with a heat to rival the humid air all around you.

You fidget uncomfortably on your wooden seat, grimacing when your thighs stick for a moment. God, how could this get any worse?

 

The bit that really killed you, the part that made you squirm about this whole ordeal, was that you had liked it. Like a lot. Like, holy shit keep this up and the panties will drop kinda like. His hands, long fingered and slightly calloused, sure on their path across your skin. And his lips, so dominating and controlled and…. passionate? The word was not something you had every thought to apply to Tsukishima. Except perhaps in his passion to piss you off through subtle digs, or how passionate he was about avoiding you when he had got it in to his head you had wanted to confess. Stupid really, to think such a thing.

Kissing? Fighting over who controlled the kiss? Having aggressive sex while spiting insults? _Teasing him so much he had to beg?_ Yes. All of those things sounded perfectly reasonable and in fact rather desirable. But _dating_ such a pretentious douche bag, yeah I’ll stick forks in my eyes thanks.

 

Tsukishima stuffs his books back into his bag, swinging it up over his shoulder, only half listening to Yamaguchi’s prattling. His eyes are on your back as you disappear through the door laughing with your friends. He can’t stop thinking about the kiss. Kisses, whatever. And sure it had felt good, and it had been fun, and he’d been lying if he said he hadn’t wanted to see what else those lips could do for a while now. _Besides flapping uselessly that is_. And it had been a pleasant surprise to find just how aggressive you could be.

But the _most_ surprising thing had been the rush of heat and contentment, the feeling of rightness in the act of moving his lips over yours. That had been a shock. It was _still_ a shock.

He and Yamaguchi weave their way through the crowd streaming out of their classrooms and into the hall. Hoping to get to the cafeteria before all the good stuff goes. Tsukishima yawns, his eyes gazing unfocused at your back fliting through the crowds.

God he’d love to slam you against the wall, pounding hard and fast, or maybe tied up with you on top of him barking orders.

“-Tsukki?”

Oh. Yamaguchi just said something. But he was too busy staring at your ass and the way it jiggled slightly when you walked to recall what it had been.

“What?” He’s being rude, he knows and if he had talked to his mother in such a way it would have been all _don’t you take that tone with me young man!_ But this is Yamaguchi and he just gives him a benign smile and repeats-

“I said how do you think the next class is going to go?”

“…..”

“Sex-Ed Tsukki! Remember! It’s going to be really weird with Miss Nakamura, I mean she’s so old you know?”

“Shut up Yamaguchi.”

“Sorry Tsukki!”

 

Tsukishima laments at the stupidity of his classmates as he nurses a headache the size of Honshu. Sure it was sorta uncomfortable to be listening to a 54 year old women describe genitals in a voice that screamed _I don’t get paid enough._ And _yes_ the dated descriptions and weirdly off-putting pictures was sorta funny, and _yes_ the shitty 90’s acting as the group of 20somethings urged the horror struck kids to practice safe-sex almost made him laugh too….but did they have to giggle **so. Damn. _Loudly?_**

A basket of condoms is passed around and Mrs. Nakamura looks at the clock at the same time he does. Neither of them want to be here. _No one_ wants to be here.

Tsukishima glances toward the window willing the time to go faster and catches sight of you half dozing in your seat. Weird.

Usually you’re paying attention no matter the learning material. His mind, inexplicably starts wondering if you’ve had much experience…

You’re pretty. _He can admit that to himself now._ But bossy oh my god so bossy! _And_ demanding, he can’t imagine anyone putting up with that for long. But you’re not blushing and avoiding eye contact with the screen now showing an erect penis like many of his classmates. Just kind of….looking disinterestedly at it.

Tsukishima pegs you for a virgin but with other experiences. (But that could be completely wrong for all he knows). He suspects he thinks that only because that’s what he is. Well,  _experience_  is a big word for the awkward grouping and fumbling with his cousin’s friend last New Year’s.

It had been so painfully average that Tsukishima had actually spent more time then he would care to admit researching online to make next time better, simply because he hated being bad at stuff…..The slightly bored face of one, Takeshi Mio still haunts him to this day.

You catch him staring from across the classroom and raise your eyebrows, nose wrinkled just so, mouthing " _What?"_ with an upturned lip. And Tsukishima is horrified by the rush of endearment that look brings.

On the outside Tsukishima just blinks and drags his eyes back to the screen. He can feel your suspicious gaze boring into the side of his head and you would be right to be wary. As his mind is full of all the lewd things he would like to do to you.

But you really made it too easy to tease you, to fantasize about you. Getting all uptight about the hickeys, and the cute way you flushed after he had pushed you against the wall. Yeah, just begging to be messed up.

These thoughts carry him all the way through to the end of last period and stop abruptly when you confront him, one hand on your hip and the other on the front of his desk.

 

“I need to talk to you.”

Tsukishima stares at the hand invading his personal space and speaks in a bored tone 

“I assume you’re _not_ here to confess your love?” Wincing only slightly at the embarrassing memories that sentence dregs up.

You tsk and shake your head. “ _No_ Tsukishima I am not. And trust me I never will. I need to talk to you about the lewd staring.”

Tsukishima jolts and his eyes flick up to your face. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard someone utter the phrase "lewd staring" in his life and there’s a reason why. It sounds ridicules.

“…..Sorry?”

“The _staring_ Tsukishima the staring! I can feel you checking me out all through class and it’s distracting! I need to concentrate if I’m going to keep up my-“

Tsukishima cuts off your tirade. “You think I’m staring at you?”

You give him a look and Tsukishima quickly gives up on the denial route and crosses his arms behind his head with a sigh.

“Fine. What do you want me to do?”

You blow out your cheeks in annoyance. “Isn’t it obvious? I want you to stop! I don’t care what we do outside of class but in class-“

Again Tsukishima stops you.

“Do? Not _did_?”

His eyebrow quirks in time with his smile. “You’re saying we _aren’t_ done with making out in dark corners?”

Heat floods your face at the same time it floods his body, waking up parts of him best left asleep in classroom settings. Even if all your classmates have made their way out the door by now.

“That’s not….I didn’t mean...”

Gosh the humiliated tinge to your face is so very delightful. That is, until your expression becomes nothing short of pissed.

“ _Fine then.”_ Your voice is back to that harsh, whip like tone that makes him lose his breath. “You act like you don’t want it fine.”

Your hand is on his arm, tugging him out of his chair and dragging him across the classroom.

“Where are we going?”

You don’t look back. “To find a dark corner of course. I want you to stop lying about not wanting me.”

Tsukishima almost trips over his own feet, his mouth dry and his pulse thudding under your grip.

He doesn’t say anything because he’s not sure he can say anything coherent. This can’t be real. You can’t be offering what he thinks you’re offering. Not Goody-two-shoes [Name]....

 

Your gaze swings back and forth across the deserted hallway and you smile when you catch sight of a lonely storeroom. Tugging Tsukishima along with you, you try the door and the handle gives a satisfying click as it swings forward.

 A dingy, linoleum titled floored room greats the two of you, bringing with it the sharp tang of cleaning supplies. However you’re not interested in the rows of products, dropping Tsukishima’s hand and marching to the middle of the room. Tsukishima watches apprehensively as you swing to face him with a wild expression in your eyes.

“There. Dark corner, now it’s up to you. You have enough balls for this Tsukishima-kun? Or are you still saying you don’t want this too?”

It’s surreal. Your uniform is tidy, your hair neat. Your usual prissy self-down to that stupid scarf but you’re goading him to come on to you.

“Tsukishima…” His name is a purr this time, it drips from your lips like honey, languid and sweet.

You take a step forward and Tsukishima can feel his body react to this new proximity.

“You can leave if you want to….But I know you won’t.” Another step and his body jangles with nervous excitement. Thrumming with energy, he watches with bated breath as you take that last step to close the distance and run your finger down where his collar ends and his skin begins. The pad of a single finger like a match dowsed in petrol, lighting small pinpricks of fire across one sensitive collarbone.

You look up, neck arching to commit this expression to memory. Tsukishima’s face is as open as you have ever seen it. The arousal evident in his dilated golden eyes, in the tongue that swipes across his lower lip, in the rattling breath that fans across your cheek. You’ve only a moment to appreciate it because Tsukishima turns and abruptly and scrambles for the lock you didn’t even know was there. Slamming it home with a screech of rusty metal and then he’s facing you again. Gripping your shoulders too tight to pull you against him.

His lips are harsh and unforgiving against yours and you kiss him back, twining your arms around his neck and tugging at the hair at his nape when he pulls your lower lip into his mouth. _This_ is what you wanted, proof this attraction wasn’t only in your head but his too. He had said that before hadn’t he? ‘ _We’re always fucking in my fucking head’_  .

It had been so hard to concentrate earlier with those eyes on you. Stripping you and setting your nerves on fire. This is much better because now you can _touch._

“This all you got pretty boy?”

He knows your goading him but he can’t help but retaliate. He digs his fingers into the skin of you back and hips, grinding against your body with frustrated growls echoing through his chest.

He pushes you away slightly so that he can get a hand between your bodies. You freeze in surprise, _is he….?_

Tsukishima breaks the kiss and rests his head in the dip between your shoulder and neck, smiling at the sound of your racing pulse and scattered breathing.

Tsukishima trails his finger up your inner thigh in lazy circles. Blood rushes in your ears but just before his fingers reach the hem of your skirt they skitter back down to your knee. The teasingly light pressure is now circling back up your thigh, disappearing past your skirt but just as your breathing picks up they retreat back down. It’s maddening. Neither of you start kissing again. Even the nibbling bites along you exposed shoulders seems like a second thought. Both of you are zeroed in on the hand that brushes along your thigh. The gentle caresses that come closer and closer to your yearning core but never quiet reach it. You whine unhappily as one finger swipes along the length of your clothed heat then disappears. You fidget, opening your legs so that teasing hand has more room to move, to explore.

Tsukishima takes you up on the suggestion and hooks on long finger into your underwear and pulls it aside without taking it off.

A sigh of relief rushes out of you as your dripping heat is exposed to the air. Finally, finally he’s going to touch you. Your legs shake with the effort of keeping still. 

Tsukishima stops laying hickey after hickey along the line of your neck. He wants to see your face, wants to watch as his finger enters you for the first time. You don’t disappoint.

Your eyes widen at the feeling and an enticing little mewl reaches his ears. But that’s not the best part.

Soaked. You’re _dripping_ around his fingers. And Tsukishima could come from just the feel of you around him.

“Shut up a-asshole.”

Tsukishima hadn’t been aware he had said that out loud. He flattens his palm against you so that the heel of his hand can graze your throbbing clit on each thrust of his long fingers as they curl and stretch and fill your twitching heat. You moan, beautifully, brokenly, ending with a curse that disappears into a breathy _Ah!_ that makes his pace frenzied and his pants wetter. He loves this, he really loves this. Could become obsessed with the way you moan against his hand and clutch at his shirt. Muscles deep within you contracting around his finger at each toying motion.

Drawing on the late night google sessions he retracts his finger with a perverted squelching sound and searches for your clit.Your shiver of pleasure as he ghosts over it gives it away and he draws tight circles, watching your face to know when to speed up and when to go harder. It a delicious puzzle.

“I’m gonna, I want-“

Tsukishima watches with a perverse kind of fascination as you fall over the edge, eyes closed and mouth open. The rush of satisfaction at the sound of your cry takes him by surprise. It’s a hungry, possessive stream of feeling, heady with want and desire. It floods every part of him, washes out the irritation of the day and anchors him to only this moment. It’s just the crease between your eyebrows, the heat from your core and the sound of both your scattered breathing. Everything else is meaningless, a distraction.

Your knees buckle and Tsukishima has to grab your shoulders to keep you upright. Tsukishima realizes your still wearing that goddamn scarf that started all this and he uncoils it from around your neck, tossing it behind him carelessly so that he can lap at the week old bruises that _h_ _e_ put there. Relishing in the small whimper that escapes your abused lips.

A hand on his chest. Pushing him away. Tsukishima reluctantly retreats a step. Taking that hand to mean this little session was over.

Already he is making plans to jerk off his poor, neglected cock in the nearest bathroom. He takes another step back but you follow, grabbing at his collar, eyes wide and demanding, voice a hiss.

“Quit screwing around and get inside me.”

Later Tsukishima will cringe at the needy intake of breath and the rumbling sound in his chest that sounded too much like a groan at your words. But right here right now he couldn’t give a single fuck.

Without thought his arms encircle your waist and dip down to kneed your ass. He snickers at your little squeal and hoists you up against him.  You waste no time in sinking your teeth into the skin peeking out from under his askew shirt and the rumbling sound is back, louder and undeniably ending in a groan of longing.

This is a familiar position but this time there is no chance of someone walking in. And like this, your arms locked around his neck and your legs crossed behind his back there is nothing to stop his fingers from dipping under your skirt and brushing along the band of your underwear. Tsukishima takes full advantage of that. They’re lacy, and much smaller then he would have suspected from such a goody two shoes. And if Tsukishima’s mouth wasn’t dry already it is now.

He snaps the band against your skin and snickers when you whimper and bite a line of hickeys up his neck in retaliation.

“I never suspected you would be a sexy panties girl, you’re actually pretty dirty aren’t you [Name]?~”

“If you don’t shut your goddamn mouth-“

Tsukishima’s hand slips past the lacy band to search for your wet opening again, your voice catches when his probing fingers brush your asshole and Tsukishima grins and files that away for further reference. He finds your sopping entrance and pushes two long fingers inside agonizingly slowly. Watching your mouth fall open at the feeling of the stretch, the lingering caresses to your inner walls.

“H-hurry up!” Your voice comes out strained and high-pitched and Tsukishima could die happy at seeing you so far from the bossy no-it-all classmate. He hums in satisfaction and curls his fingers but makes no move to increase the speed. You cry out in frustration and thrust yourself down, desperately trying to reach that precipice once again but Tsukishima laughs and halts the movement of his lovely long fingers all together.

“Naughty, naughty~ Don’t move until I say so otherwise I’ll stop.”

Wow he really does have a sadistic streak…. If the rush of pleasure from your whimpering, shaking form desperately trying to hold still is any indication. It’s lucky you’re so far gone to think logically because there is no way Tsukishima would actually stop. He’s much too horny for that.

Though there is no doubt he is enjoying seeing you so humiliated Tsukishima actually has a second motive for all this teasing.

He’s….well-endowed and has no idea how experienced you are. And though there is no denying he likes watching you squeak and shudder from each tinge of pain that he inflicts. He doesn’t want this to be a _bad_ experience and he doesn’t actually want to _hurt_ you.

When he’s sure you are not going to move he starts again, meticulously filling and stretching your tight heat. Lewd, wet sounds as you pull his fingers in fill the air and make you hide against his chest, face burning. It’s so embarrassing! You are never going to be able to look him in the eye ever again.

Tsukishima slips out of your core and brushes the pad of one calloused finger across your bundle of nerves, and your brain stops thinking. He does it again and you near sob because it’s nowhere near hard enough to let you come but it’s enough to tantalize the sensation. Your hands are locked behind his neck so tightly your arms are starting to go numb and you’re quivering with the effort of not grinding yourself against that probing finger.

‘Tsu-Tsukishima…! P-Please...”

Tsukishima’s voice is unforgiving. “Not yet.”

The pressure against your swollen clit disappears and your eyes tear up in frustration to match the burning disappointment in your aching core. You bite the material of his shirt to muffle the choked moan of his name.

Then three fingers are easing inside of you and the wet patch of shirt falls from your lips in a gasping cry. Oh god it’s so tight. The stinging burn causes the tears to leave damp tracks down your face and your back to snap upright so that you are face to face again. Tsukishima is breathing heavily, perspiration speckling his brow and upper lip.

“Is this okay?”

Words are beyond you so you just nod desperately. Tsukishima frowns but doesn’t pull out, easing his fingers further inside, watching your changing expressions carefully. The sting is lessening but a tear still wells up, threatening to fall as his fingers retreat back out past your entrance, then in again with a gentle thrust. Tsukishima winces with you and leans forward to kiss the offending tear away. _An apology?_

Tsukishima’s arms are burning from the effort of keeping you up and his fingers and cock ache. One from being used to much, one from not being used at all.

He stops the hesitant movement of his fingers and casts around for a softish piece of floor. There isn’t really such thing so he just kneels with you still holding on. Propping you up against the wall and the floor as he sits back to struggle with this belt buckle. You watch with half lidded eyes. Are you really doing this? You search for some reasonable part of your brain that should be telling you to not have sex with the guy you hate right around now but all you find is a happy buzz and an anticipation for what is to come. Your heart thumping to the beat of the throbbing emptiness in your core.

“Are we doing this?”

Is it just you, or does Tsukishima sound…unsure?

You shrug “We’ve come this far.”

You receive an answering shrug but Tsukishima makes no move to come to you, some kind of hesitancy still lingering behind his eyes. But you can’t be mistaking the want in his clenched hands, nor the dubious wet patch sticking his dick to his boxers and outlining its shape in delicious detail.

You uncurl yourself from your place by the wall and crawl towards him, never taking your eyes of his so that he can see you are willing to go all the way. That this isn’t a test or a trap or whatever it is that is holding him back.

“Do you want to?”

Tsukishima’s face heats and he blusters away his embarrassment. “I could ask you the same question.”

“I do.” The words are softly spoken but hold so much weight. Something changes in the air, in the way Tsukishima is looking at you. He doesn’t speak, just reaches for your hand to pull you across him. And fumbles in his pocket for the condom he had taken from that damn basket in class.

Even sitting on his lap he is still taller then you but that is fine, it means you can hide in his shoulder and stifle your moans. You unstick his cock from the pre staining his shorts and pull it free from the fabric. You have little time to admire its girth and feel because Tsukishima’s hand is pushing yours away so that he can line himself up with your weeping core, pulling your lips apart and nudging the head of his cock past your entrance. Your hands jump to his shoulders in surprise at the feeling, your walls contracting involuntarily around his swollen head and Tsukishima’s answering broken curse makes your insides quiver. A hand on your waist tugs downward pleadingly and you answer the unspoken plea by sucking in your breath and slowly lowering yourself onto Tsukishima’s throbbing cock. Stopping every time the pain of the pinching spread of your sensitive inner walls became too much. Focusing instead on the dent between Tsukishima’s eyebrows, and the line of white teeth digging into his bottom lip at the sensation.

Your thighs burn from keeping up the slow descent and your knee hurts from where it anchors you on the floor, you shift to try and relieve the pain but you lose your balance and fall heavily onto Tsukishima’s lap, thrusting the last few inches inside the deepest parts of yourself. You wail brokenly and writhe and twist trying to rid yourself of the burning heat, but moving is only making it worse. Why oh why did this asshole have to be so damn big?

You try to lift yourself of the probing, invasive feeling but Tsukishima’s hands have shot out to hold you there, his eyes shut and his head bowed as tight, hot pressure sets his nerves on fire. He probably hasn’t done it with the purpose of holding you there against your will, but it means the pain is still there, impossible to ignore, making your core throb in discomfort. You thank the gods you’re still soaked from all the teasing because though Tsukishima large size is making your tear reflex start up again, at least he’s not, you know, _tearing you._

“Tsukis-“

Tsukishima’s hands tighten on your waist, cutting you off with a strangled voice.

“Don’t move….. gonna come.”

You stare in surprise at the expression of near pain on his face. Well at least your both suffering?

You watch a drop of sweat fall from his brow to his cheekbone, trying to focus on anything that isn’t the feeling of his dick stretching your core. Breath in, breath out, you both try to match each other and with each new exhale the pain lessons and turns into a kind of unfulfilled pressure. When the pain is a small ache you cross your legs behind him like before, jostling your body and causing momentary pain to flare up again.

Tsukishima runs his fingers down your spine in what could only be described as a soothing gesture. It’s surprisingly sweet and the strangely tentative kiss that follows is so far from your usual aggressive competition it makes you pause. Than you meet the soft slide of his lip with your own, in a way that’s almost chaste. Neither of you make any attempt to move yet, just enjoying the closeness, the warmth of another body, Tsukishima’s hands reach down to kneed your ass of their own accord. You’re starting to realize that must be a thing for him. And that’s A-Okay for you.

The need to move is building now, a hot ache that is only relieved momentarily when you squirm on top of him.

“Tsukishima, move,” you breathe against the skin of his throat. Tsukishima answers with a wheezing huff that’s not quiet words, his hands, clutching your ass more firmly to him.

 

You glare and squeeze around him and Tsukishima lets out a strangled groan from the back of his throat. One he prays you won’t remember because even to his own ears it sounds pathetic and vulnerable. He tries to thrust upwards but it’s difficult from this position. He really, really wants to make you come again. In an attempt to regain some of his dignity, but he can feel himself cresting, too fast, much too fast. You moan, breath hitching and he can _feel_ _it_ around his cock as your warm heat contracts around him in time with the stifled groans you shake out against his shoulder.

“Look at me.” It’s a demand, but it’s punctured with shaking breaths that take much of the urgency out. You acquiesce anyway, raising your head from where it’s tucked against his shoulder to lock eyes.

_Oh god, yup not going to last._

You’re wrecked. Face flushed red in a way that really shouldn’t be attractive but is. The tiniest hint of drool glinting at the corner of your gaping mouth, eyes half lidded, hair in disarray. It’s beautiful. Oh my god it’s so freaking erotic.

His thrusts become erratic, things like pace and skill flying out the window in favor of a force that is almost punishing. But you love it. Head trashing about in near delirium as your lips spill profanities.

Tsukishima’s climbing at an alarming rate, hands slamming you against him

“Tsukishima! I’m gonna-”

No you’re really not. Because all at once the pressure, the heat it becomes too much. And Tsukishima is convulsing, hands gripping your thighs and cock spurting hot come deep inside you.

When Tsukishima has stopped seeing white the first thing he sees is your face, wide eyed but quickly changing to an expression he knows all to well. Mouth pulled down and brows low. The faintest hint of contempt in your jawline.

You hiss in displeasure and sit up and off him in a movement that’s far too abrupt for his oversensitive cock. Snarling words he can’t make sense of in his post orgasm state. You’re back on the floor, knees apart and Tsukishima can see _everything_. Your hand disappears between your folds, gaining an immediate reaction in your debauched body. Your hands are harsh in their movements till Tsukishima recognizes the arch of your back and the desperate edge to your cries. Tsukishima fights with tired lids because he wants to see this. The way your body shakes through the whole ordeal, the glistening sheen to your fingers as your core weeps it's arousal. Tsukishima wants to taste you with every fiber of his being, wants his tongue inside you as you squirm. He satisfies himself by pulling his fingers into his mouth and sucking, the faint hint of your core still tangible, a tangy earthy taste he’s never experienced before. But he’s lethargic and not in control of his movements so he just fixes his gaze on the point between your legs and _enjoys._ He knows that he will probably jerk of once-twice to the memory of it tonight and he doesn’t want to miss the way your fingers curl or the exact way your faces tightens then relaxes in bliss as you rub tight circles on your swollen clit, hard and fast till you come with a spasm against the cold hard tiles of the storeroom floor.

Silence fills the room. Nothing but your harsh breathing, as you collapse onto your elbows, giving Tsukishima an even better view of your flushed, dripping core and he’s just thinking that he may be in for another round when your voice, weirdly calm and clipped breaks apart that fantasy.

“I still hate you.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes and holds his hands out palm up in a placating gesture.

“The feeling is mutual, don’t you worry about that.”

“Good.”

You roll on to your side and up and Tsukishima secretly mourns the loss of that tantalizing sight as you search around for your underwear.

Tsukishima ties of the condom and hikes up his boxers and trousers, brushing himself down and pondering on the fact that he just lost his V-plates in a storeroom, at school, with someone who frequently makes him want to bash his head against his desk.

Tsukishima sounds bored when you finally locate your underwear. “Are you decent yet?”

“Hold your bloody horses!” you snap back.

Really! Does he think you would walk around with your underwear hanging around your ankles? You pull them in place and attempt to tame your hair with your fingers.  Turning back to him with your arms slightly raised.

“How do I look?”

Tsukishima looks you up and down, openly resting on your breasts and the new collection of bruises on your neck. _And if his dick twitches in interest at the memory of his hands running along those curves and the delightful pressure of your insides well, that’s just a natural response isn’t it_? He swallows and pulls up his usual apathetic expression.

“Nothing to write home about.”

God how can someone who was inside you moments before be such a goddamn jerk?

You click your tongue, swinging round to slide the lock out of the bolt and flouncing out of the storeroom. Hoping he doesn’t see the wince as your sore muscles clench at the movement.

When the sound of your footsteps fade Tsukishima sighs and rubs his hand down his face. Well this was……a new development….

He shrugs and chalks it up to the heat, needing to let off steam, anything that isn’t the little nagging voice that sounds suspiciously like your own that is asking him if he really dislikes you…

Nope definitely the heat. Tsukishima shakes off that dangerous train of thought and moves out into the hallway, letting the storeroom door shut behind him with a final snap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to douse myself in holy water now....  
> Hopefully this was what you wanted. More of Tsukishima and Reader-chan to come, and many other one-shots featuring all your fav husbands. Suggestions are welcome but if it doesn't work with what I have lined up it may take a while, mostly I just like to see what characters you guys are interested in but these are first and foremost just all my fantasies but if I can make something we both like that's always the best!  
> Till next time, and thank you for your support xox


	12. Popped bubble (Sugawara Koushi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your smile widens slightly and Sugawara sighs in relief. “I’d love to, but don’t you have practice?”
> 
> It takes Sugawara a while to reply, simply because he is fascinated by the way your lips form the word love. When he’s back on planet earth he scratches one faintly blushing cheek, insides coiled uncomfortable tight. Since when has he been this socially inept?
> 
> “Of- yeah, but if you wouldn’t mind waiting….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Descriptions of PTSD, so trigger warning? I am sorry I am not really sure how to tag this......  
> But it will be present in the Suga story. A reader brought to my attention that I hadn't actually warned readers about it so I am sorry if it triggered anything for you because as someone who has had something similar but no where near this extreme it is sometimes hard for me to know if something deserves a trigger warning or not.  
> With that in mind please enjoy :)

Sugawara sighs and carefully arranges his books at the bottom of his bag. Grimacing when an edge catches. He hates dog-eared pages.

The teachers had been brutal today and the stack of sheets folded neatly between the pages of his binder are an uncomfortable reminder of how much homework he has to work through this evening. A voice calls out, telling him to stop fussing and hurry up and Sugawara waves his understanding. His friends always like to get the good spots for lunch.

In the corridor they joke around and complain about the cruelness of teachers and general things all teens complain about. When a familiar figure on the periphery of his vision makes him pause.

You're just outside, staring into nowhere with your arms wrapped around your torso. Sugawara frowns and quickly hikes up a window, ignoring the blast of freezing air against his face and the voices of his friends growing fainter and fainter.

“[Name]-san?”

You don’t react so Sugawara tries again. Louder this time, with a small dorky wave.

Your eyes snap back into focus at that and the beginnings of a smile that looks to his now aware brain as transparent as glass steals across your face.

_Ahh….how did I miss that?_

Sugawara has always prided himself on being able to read the atmosphere, on keeping tabs on his friends and teammates. Had all of that been an illusion?

“Sugawara-san hey, what can I do for you?”

It’s stupid he knows, but he hasn’t actually thought this far ahead and quickly falls on the first thing that comes to mind so as to not look insane.

“Nothing, just ah….want to come over to my place today? My mum wants to see you again.” It’s not really a lie, because of course his mother would be happy to see you. But she never explicitly _asked_ to see you. But what you won’t know won’t hurt you right?

Your smile widens slightly and Sugawara sighs in relief. “I’d love to, but don’t you have practice?”

It takes Sugawara a while to reply, simply because he is fascinated by the way your lips form the word love. When he’s back on planet earth he scratches one faintly blushing cheek, insides coiled uncomfortable tight. Since when has he been this socially inept?

“Of- yeah, but if you wouldn’t mind waiting….”

You frown, eyes squinting slightly and Sugawara backtracks fast. “Oh! But of course you probably have to study or something right?”

“It’s fine, I can do it in the library until you are done.”

And just like that you fall into an easy routine.

You study in the library, Sugawara joins his teammates in the gym, and when it’s over he near sprints to pick you up. He’s always already knackered from practice but the little smile you give him when he startles you out of your notes makes up for any physical exhaustion he might have felt moments before.

Each day you walk the long trip to his house closer together till the back of your hands brush against his on every other step. Sugawara lives for those glancing touches. He learns things about you, things he already knew but had forgotten in the years you were gone from his life, and new things, little things. But he catalogues every single one. Holds on to them like they are something precious. What drink you get from the corner shop every single time you pass it, except on Fridays were you venture into unknown territory, always claiming. “The usual one was better”. The way you hum in satisfaction when he inevitably offer you a bite of his meat-bun, always giving him a sip in return that makes him giddy but also mightily embarrassed because he should _not_ be swooning over an indirect kiss at this age.

Sugawara notices the little wide-eyed stares from his kohai and he _definitely_ notices Daichi’s raised eyebrows at every familiar interaction but he could care less about the good natured ribbing during practices. As long as you smile at him, and walk too close and share his food. Nothing is going to pop his little bubble of happiness.

At his house he catches up on his studies while you have made it your mission to plow through his shelf of contemporary reads. He’ll never tell, but you make the most adorable faces while you do. He can almost pinpoint exactly where you are in the story from your little frown or bashful smile. It’s rather distracting. But in the best way possible.

When his study quota is filled for the day you watch movies together, alternating between your favourites. Or just sit in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

Now he is aware of your past he can’t help but notice the times when your gaze grows far away, a sorrowful expression tainting your beautiful face.

He pulls you from your slumps with offers of walks or food or a stupid pun he once heard Fukurodani’s captain make.

The last one is sure to make you groan and throw the nearest object at him, but it’s better than the alternative which is to let you stew over harsh memories.

When you leave Sugawara mopes around the kitchen listening to his mother’s thoughts on the hilarity of his crush, but that’s almost unbearable so more often than not he lies face up on his bed, hugging the pillow that still kinda smells like your perfume and daydreams. Most are sweet, charming and pastel coloured. Holding your hand, kissing your forehead and taking you out for cute dates where you share milkshakes or something. But sometimes they are feverish. Filled with sensual kisses, shallow breathing and Koushi, Koushi, Koushi!

The first ones make him squirm and bury his face into his pillows and the latter inevitably sends his hands wandering downwards. Grappling with no small amount of guilt every time.

Nothing changes until one night after a particularly long practice.

It starts the same. He meets you in the library, and your smile makes his heart stutter painfully in his chest. He helps you collect up your things and you walk quietly behind the rest of the team as they argue and rile each other up. You laugh pleasantly at their antics and Suga smiles with you, just at the sound. He holds up the bun of his choice near your mouth and watches with fascination as you take a bite, pink tongue darting out to catch crumbs and making Sugawara feel hot. His mind darting towards indecent things, your innocent smile of thanks washing him through with guilt at his thoughts.

Ignoring Daichi’s shit-eating gin he leans forward to wipe imaginary food from your bottom lip just so he can feel that smile beneath his fingertips.

The magic of the moment is broken by a set of squealing tyres against asphalt , a bulky ford howns around the corner much too fast and it’s only by some impressive handling from the driver that they avoid a head on collision with the panicking students.

Hinata looks about to feint and Kageyama is yelling profanities. Daichi is furious, unabashedly chewing out the elderly driver and gesturing wildly behind him at the team.

Sugawara's heart, which had been in his mouth moments before, settles back where it belongs when he sees the team is not physically hurt.

A small whimper causes him to turn and the sight before him makes his chest convulse unpleasantly.

You’re crouched and shivering uncontrollably, hands over your ears and eyes much, much too wide. Even oblivious Hinata can see there is something very, very wrong.

“Suga-san….Why-“

“[Name]?” Sugawara’s voice is raspy with horror. You don’t reply, just remove your hands from your ears to wrap your arms across your stomach as if you are physically keeping yourself together.

“[Name]?!” Sugawara kneels beside you under the curious gaze of his teammates and places one hand on your shoulder. “Please talk to me, are you alright?”

The shaking doesn’t stop but your eyes flick to the side to meet his, your pupils’ just tiny specks in the sea of the colour he loves so much. You’re looking at him but not really seeing as tears collect at the corners of your eyes and threaten to spill across your cheeks.

“Suga…What wrong with her?” Daichi’s steady voice is unusually tentative. Sugawara shakes his head “Her family died in a car accident, I didn’t think- Daichi I can’t carry her, She’s so cold Daichi!”

Sugawara is earring on the side of hysteric, his hands grasping at your clothes, your cheeks, your hands which are ice against his own. Anything to get a reaction out of you that isn’t a pained whimper.

Through his panic he can hear Daichi telling the others to keep moving, that their parents will be worried and he’ll see them tomorrow.

Then he’s talking in a soothing voice, the kind that you use for frightened animals or small children, telling him _to let go of [Name] because he can’t carry her if you’re holding her now can I?_

Sugawara is confused, why is Daichi talking to him like this? He’s not the one having a panic attack, _you’re_ is the one in danger. Sugawara stares at where his hands twist into the fabric of your vest and it takes all his brain function to slowly uncurl them from the scratchy wool.

Daichi lets out a relieved sigh and grips his arms to pull Sugawara to his feet before kneeling and hoisting you up into his arms.

“Suga? I need you to tell me where [Name]-san’s house is okay?”

Sugawara nods and chokes out directions he wasn’t aware he had memorized. Daichi nods and begins walking. Sugawara follows pathetically and winces every time you whine against Daichi chest. He’s so useless. You’re in trouble and all he can do is panic.

The walk goes by in a blur and then Suga and Daichi have to explain to a shocked elderly couple why they are carrying their dazed and crying granddaughter up the front steps. They are practical people and it doesn’t take them long to get over their initial horror.

“This happens sometimes” they admit, directing Daichi to your room and Sugawara can only watch with a kind of twisted horror when he realizes that this is another thing he has had to find out from someone else. He’s supposed to be looking out for you god dammit! And some vicious part of himself whispers that it’s because you don’t trust him.

Daichi returns and the sweet old lady who Sugawara has yet to introduce himself to hands him a flowery handkerchief with the reassurance that you are well and sleeping.

Sugawara hadn’t even realized that he had been crying and now that you’re out of danger he feel so, so incredibly pathetic.

He and Daichi bid them goodnight and just like that Sugawara is standing outside his crushes house, next to his best friend who he is indebted to, holding a flowery handkerchief and trying to hide his sniffles.

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

Sugawara drags a hand across his face with a grimace.

“For panicking and being generally unhelpful.”

Daichi shrugs good-naturedly “The person you like was having a panic-attack, I think you’re allowed to be upset Suga.”

It’s so like Daichi to just shrug this of, but Sugawara needs to let him know how grateful he is.

“Right…..and thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come on this thread and the others, thank you for sticking with me :)  
> I am not as happy with this one as i have been with others but I figured you guys deserved an update.


	13. Notice me senpai (Yamaguchi Tadashi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamaguchi feels the familiar cocktail of shame, regret and sadness as he catches sight of your figure manning the till. It’s been like this for a month. The same awful feelings over and over, having to see you every week and try to forget what your mouth had felt like on him. Trying to remember that it hadn’t meant anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see! I am so sorry for the delay! I was diagnosed with glandular fever after weeks of hospital visits etc and really haven't been feeling my best. Ps penicillin is the most disgusting thing on this planet.  
> But here we are!  
> This chapter has themes that may upset some people but read my explanation at the end before you flame please! (no one actually has before but I always try to be careful. can you tell i am on tumblr yet?)  
> With that in mind enjoy some yama baby!  
> 

You step down from the bus of inebriated teens and grin up at the night sky. It was pissing down earlier but now it’s just the damp air and cold earthy smell that comes with rain.

The road is a giant oil slick reflecting the night sky and the flashing signs climbing up the buildings cast spheres of gold across the tar seal. At night any city looks like something out of a movie.

Clubbing in Miyagi, once you got to a decent city, was slightly above painfully average but you take what you can get right?

You let the crowd of Uni student swarm around and past you, catching garbled snatches of conversation and the whiff of cheap booze. You do a quick stock take. Fake ID, debit card, cash. You hum happily and stride down the street. Swinging your hips when you pass a group of guys nursing a jug of sangria outside a bar. You deliberate briefly on joining them but move past. School has been shitty lately and your dad hasn’t called in weeks. You want to dance.

It easier like this, standing in line, sweet talking the bouncers, grinding up on handsome strangers and screwing in the bathrooms. It’s exhilarating and thankfully doesn’t give you time to dwell.

You stand in line and jiggle up and down to try and keep the feeling in your toes which are already feeling the pinch from your heels. They’re a bitch but they do amazing things for your calves so you’re willing to put up with a little pain. In fact, isn’t that what you excel at? Putting up with the pain?

Once inside the humid air, the cloying smell of sweat and perfume feels like home, it feels like forgetting. It’s feels good.

Bodies pressed too tight against your side as you push your way to the middle of the dancefloor. A hand on your shoulder makes you turn. A handsome face, biceps for days. He’ll do nicely. You smile in invitation and he tucks his hands around your waist, shouting a name into your ear that you don’t catch over the thumping bass but it doesn’t matter. Your bodies twist together, swaying to the music, hands wandering freely. Until you drag him to the toilets. You have dirty, ugly sex against the stall wall and it feels like you are remaking your bones into someone else, someone better. The funny thing is you might has well have been by yourself for all the attention you pay to your partner. It’s sad, this guy (whatever his name is) seems to be actually pretty nice behind the slightly arrogant way he holds himself, he even makes sure to get you off which is more than many of the guys you screw would do.

He asks for your number after and you list it out without missing a beat. He’s a good screw, and not a bad guy. But they are all nice when they want something. Until they get it, then it’s _oh I was busy!_ Or _sorry my phone died_! Or just straight up _we’re done._ The last one is better. At least that way you can move on to the next shitty hook up.

 _‘Actually pretty nice’_ grins and begins buttoning up his shirt, you fix your dress and lipstick in the mirror, not bothering to turn to watch as he bangs out of the stall. A momentary rush of sound as he opens the main door to join the crowd and then there’s silence. Awful suffocating silence.

There’s cum dripping down your thigh and your hairs a mess. You ignore the hollow ache in your gut, convince yourself that you like this. That you don’t feel dirty or used. I mean, it was your idea to have sex with him. How can you feel this way?

You lean against the cubical wall and stare at the mess of toilet paper, water and god knows what else on the floor. This used to be exciting. Another story to tell your friends, an easy way to feel good no strings attached. But now it’s monotonous and depressing. And _boring_ , nothing and no one seem to surprise you anymore.

You stumble back out into the club and throw back overpriced tequila shots until you forget why you were sad and later when the sky is lightening to a dusky pink you follow the stream of sweaty, drunk party goers into the street to hail a taxi. Muttering slurred instructions in-between gazing vacantly out of the window. Watching the silver tracks on the glass as the rains begin again. When you finally make it back to your empty home smelling of club musk and someone else’s cigarette smoke, it takes all of 30 seconds before you’re crashed out on your mattress, little black dress hiked up around your thighs and eyeliner crusting between your lashes.

The shrill sound of your alarm wakes you up from sleep and you rise with a groan, stretching your arms above your head till your shoulder gives a satisfying pop and gazing around blearily for your green Shimada Mart apron.

A thirty second shower later you’re standing at the toaster absentmindedly trying to scrub away at the black residue around your eyes in the distorted reflection on the metal contraption. Damn water resistant crap.

The click of the toaster startles you and the annoyingly bare cupboards make you frown. Is the old man expecting food to magically appear there? You would think he would peel himself away from his girlfriend long enough to at least send you money for fucking groceries. But no, apparently he is still an asshole.

Forgoing spreads that you don’t even have you step into your shoes munching plain toast as you go and snorting at the cliché-ness of it all. Right down to the absentee father. Fan-fucking-tastic.

 

Yamaguchi feels the familiar cocktail of shame, regret and sadness as he catches sight of your figure manning the till. It’s been like this for a month. The same awful feelings over and over, having to see you every week and try to forget what your mouth had felt like on him. Trying to remember that it hadn’t meant anything.

He passes you quickly and makes his way to the back to clock in. Trying to ignore the new collection of hickeys on your neck and your slightly smudged eyeliner. It’s a Saturday and that means you were out last night. Wrapped in someone’s arms or dancing the night away.  Yamaguchi isn’t disapproving, just envious. Because someone got to make you feel good and it wasn’t him.

And god he so desperately wants it to be him.

He joins you at the till, smiling weakly at the dorky salute you throw as he helps with the small influx of lunchtime costumers by packing the items you scan through.

A lady who forgets her eggs and holds up the line for five minutes, a salary man with greying hair and wandering eyes, and a stressed mother of four who looks near about to break down file through in quick succession. And then two guys, Yamaguchi guesses around University age plonk down fizzy drinks and chip packets, the classic ‘we’re staying indoors today and we’re broke students’ starter pack. The taller one smiles lazily and immediately engages you in a conversation filled with so many innuendos and badly concealed desperation Yamaguchi has to turn away. In doing so his eyes fall on the second, shorter guy who keeps shooting infatuated glances your way, trying to get a word in edge-ways into the conversation.  Yamaguchi bites his lip and doubles his efforts. Hoping this will make them leave faster. This display annoys him. And for once it is not because of the guy chatting you up but the smaller one with the doe eyes. Because Yamaguchi can admit it to himself. It’s like looking in a mirror.

A flash of misplaced anger surges through him hot and sickly. Is there any guy who doesn’t have a thing for you? If he were someone else, say Tsukki he might said something scathing already. But he is  _Yamaguchi._ He likes to think he is above that sort of thing. But all these bitter thoughts have him questioning himself and messing up his head. The two guys take their purchases and Yamaguchi watches them leave, squinting against the midday sun streaming through the automatic doors.

When he turns back to face you it’s like you are a different person. Flirty smile gone, shoulders turned inward. You look tired and not just from the late night you inevitably had. It’s a deeper kind of world weary tired and it hurts him to see it.

“[Name]-senpai?”

In an instant the smile is back, your eyes bright and focused. “Was up?”

Yamaguchi is taken aback by the sudden jump and scrambles for something to say “Did you know those guys?”

You shrug “Not really, they said they’d had heard I was fun to be around.”

Yamaguchi tries to smile cheerfully.

“Oh so are you going to go on a date with one of them?” Did you even date people? Oh my god what if you didn’t date people?! Then even if he managed to build up the courage-

“Um, no Yama-chan they just wanted to fuck.”

Yamaguchi pulls up short, his mind’s eye full of the doe eyed guy’s face. It had looked like more than that to him, but he is nowhere near an expert. “How do you know?”

“What else would they want.” It’s not even a question. You say it like it is something someone else has told you every day. Like it’s a fact or a universal truth. Like it’s not even within your grasp of understanding to consider that someone could want you for more than your body or sex.

“I……okay.” What else was he supposed to say to that?

Maybe they had wanted to hold your hand and take you to the up and coming festival and wake up with their face in your hair and a dead arm, but it’s alright because your sleeping face is sure to be super-duper cute and _okay_ maybe these are all the Yamaguchi wants to do but there are others, he is certain, that would want those things too.

 

After the rush Shimada-san sends you both out to reorganize the back shelves.  Yamaguchi can’t help but smile at your little jokes or wacky stories, can’t help but become fascinated by the way your face shows particular expressions. You’re in the middle of telling a story about your late night adventures where you got drunk with your friends and woke up on the kitchen floor clutching a pizza box for warmth with much giggling and hand waving. He likes that you can’t tell funny stories without laughing. It’s surprisingly dorky and oddly charming for a senpai that so many regard as a cool and confident person, or at least as an untouchable dream screw.

Yesterday he had overheard some of the older boys calling you that. "A dream screw". It’s nowhere near describing how wonderful he thinks you are, and the stupid words people sometimes whisper behind your back make his hands fist at his sides. You can’t flirt and hook up with someone only to run back to your friends and giggle. It’s wrong and cruel, especially when they know none of the lovely little things you do. Like the way you seem to genuinely listen whenever he gets up the courage to reply with more than a jerky nod or weak smile. Or the way you always great him at the beginning of each shift with that dorky salute.

He should tell you, if he doesn’t nothing is ever going to happen.

“Are you okay Yama-chan? You got this scary look on your face.”

“Huh? Oh-Oh yeah I’m fine.”

You squint at him for a beat, then shrug and turn back to the mountain of miscellaneous cans you are trying to sort out. A small dent between your eyebrows.

 

You rub your stomach impatiently as you wait for Yamaguchi to sign out. “Come on Yama-chan! Its half price at the waffle stand today and so help me god if the caramel surprise has sold out.”

Yamaguchi smiles at your pout and waves his hand in a ‘yeah yeah’ kind of way. Half price waffle Saturday has become routine for the two of you and you always get cranky if he takes even a second too long on organizing his stuff. As soon as he has clocked out you grab his arm, ignoring his little yelp of protest and drag him through the shop and past Shimada-san with a merry wave.

Outside the wind is muggy but the sky is pleasantly bright and that almost makes up for it. He naturally slows his walk to match your step and hums along as you rant about one of the ruder customers that day. He knows in his right mind that this scene is kind of mundane, but just walking at your side has his heart beating wildly in his chest and his breathing shallow.

Yamaguchi swallows harshly, raising one shaking hand to partially obscure the bottom half of his face. He’s going to try, he is. He can’t go through another day of pretending like the thing he wants most isn’t right in front of him. Of smiling dutifully when you tell the ‘funny story’ of your latest late night hook up. He grabs for you hand and is mortified to realize it is hot and clammy but he is doing this. It’s now or never.

“S-senpai!”

Your shocked eyes mirrors his as you both think the same thing ‘Well that was high pitched’. Except Yamaguchi has the mortification of such a strangled sound coming from _his_ mouth. This hasn’t started the way he had wanted it too but he’s jumped now and he’d rather fly then fall. But whatever you say he’s hoping you will be kind about it.

“Um-You know the other day….whe-when we….when you-in the back room-“

Understanding floods your face along with a cocky smile that he recognizes.

“You want to do naughty stuff again?~ I must say Yama-chan this _is_ surprising, I didn’t know you were the type to proposition a girl.”

Your voice drops, dragging and catching over the low notes of your voice as you take a step towards him “Yamaguchi~ come here.”

Instinctively Yamaguchi’s legs jolt forwards and your coy smile and this new proximity steals his breath from his lungs. He was supposed to say something wasn’t he? But your new, heady gaze and intoxicating smell is making him forget what he had been meaning to do.

You smile, reaching up to run your fingers ever so gently down the side of his face, marveling at the cute little blush under his freckles. You giggle and Yamaguchi whimpers at his embarrassing state. You lean forward slowly, grin dropping away into something sultrier and -dare he say it?- more tender. Who cares what he was going to do –to say, nothing is more important than the way your lips look, so tantalizingly close to his.

You’re so close he can feel your breath fan softly over his mouth. You are going to kiss him. He’s going to kiss you again! Kiss! With his crush, the girl who he’s crazy about! The girl who…..doesn’t even really like him.

Yamaguchi’s eyes, which have slipped shut of their own accord wrench open and his too big hands jerk up to your shoulders, keeping that small sliver of space between you.

His voice cracks, dry and unattractive.

“N-no.”

“Yama-chan?”

Your brow crinkles in confusion, bottom lip pulling out into a slight pout and Yamaguchi just really wants to kiss you again but he averts his gaze, cheeks flushing red in pre-emptive embarrassment.

“[Name]-senpai I….don’t want-“

“You don’t want to fuck?”

Yamaguchi squeaks at your language and you pull back in horror, hands held out in front of your chest.

“Yamaguchi why didn’t you say that! I am so so sorry! Oh my gosh-um…can I get you anything?”

Yamaguchi makes a sound that is undefinable, arms flailing about, completely mortified that this is where the conversation has gone.

His voice is weak and the hand on your shoulder is even weaker.

“[Name]-senpai that’s not-I want to be your boyfriend!”

Silence. Whatever you had been expecting when he had asked to speak with you it clearly wasn’t that. If the whole complete and utter shock thing you have going on was any indication.

“I want to date you [Name]-senpai.”

Yamaguchi’s voice is miserable, he can’t help it. Finally admitting his desires feels like he just cut open his chest and bared his heart to you. And he is deathly afraid that you will scorn it.

“You want to date me?”

“Yes” Tadashi’s face couldn’t be redder, at this point he wouldn’t be surprised to find steam coming out of his ears.

“Like go on dates and stuff?”

“Yes”

You’re looking at him bemusedly, like you’re hearing a joke but are not sure of the punchline. And for some reason it makes him sad. Why is it so hard to understand that a poor love-sick fool would want to date a pretty, funny, lovely girl?

“Um….why? You don’t really know that much about me Yama-chan. I’m not really sure how this whole dating thing works anyway and-“

“Come to the festival with me!” The silence that follows his blurted request is the longest of Yamaguchi’s young life.

“…….The festival?”

“Yes,” you huff a laugh that has him wishing for death, but at least you’re smiling and not wearing that genuinely confused expression.

“You like that word a lot don’t you Yama-chan? Fine, I’ll go with you.”

“I….really?”

“Sure. But I’ll only come if you buy my waffle today, and make sure you get extra cream otherwise the deals off.”

“Yes! Don’t worry [Name]-senpai I’ll get you anything! I’ll do anything-“

“Wow Yama-chan it –I was joking you know? Yama-chan wait up!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! new chapter finished :)
> 
> This thread has the theme of sex without feelings or a girl having casual sex and though in this shot I wrote it to be empty and sad THAT DOES NOT MEAN I THINK GIRLS SHOULDN'T HAVE IT or anything. You might have noticed that I have been trying to make each 'you' in the threads different and dealing with different problems. This is just to make it interesting to write and read by giving the boys a character to play off and the yama thread's 'you' is going to be like this. I am sorry if this explanation is not good enough. feel free to talk to me about it and i will try to explain it better.
> 
> Also I always forget about the underage drinking themes I add in simply because I am overage in my country and also because our legal drinking age is younger then in most country's, and even before then everyone drinks before it either with their parents permission or 'sneakily' with their friends so yeah. I always forget that the legal age in japan is so old but meh whatever, this is a story man.  
> Till next time and thanks for sticking with me :)


	14. Aftermath (Sugawara Koushi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You push his shoulder playfully, mercifully creating some space between the two of you. It does things to your blood pressure to have his breath ghost across your ear.
> 
> “I’m already questioning your manliness Sugawara-san. I mean, you’re prettier than almost all the girls in this school. How’s that even fair?”
> 
> “Almost? You wound me [Name]! And why are you still calling me Sugawara-san? Drop the formality already!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has more PSTD references and the protagonists negative thoughts about her situation, I think it is called 'ableist' themes but I am not so up to date on such stuff. This is basically just a warning for that and a reassurance that those negative thoughts will get cleared up in a later installment. I am just exploring this theme as a writer and want you all to be safe when enjoying this website. :)
> 
> With that in mind I hope I haven't scared too many of you away and hope you enjoy this chapter with Sugamama <3

“[Name]!”

You jump at the voice by your shoulder, you hadn’t even realised Sugawara had approached you. Completely lost in your thoughts of the mountain of revision currently stacked on your desk at home.

You wave you’re chopsticks in his direction in a vague greeting, not wanting to talk with your mouth full and pat the space beside you in welcome.

Suga’s eye sparkle with amusement. “I don’t think you are supposed to eat lunch up on the roof. School rules and all that.”

You swallow your food, glancing around at the little clusters of other student scattered around the bare concrete structure and raise your eyebrows “Doesn’t look like that rule is enforced.”

“Ah true.”

You watch as the white haired setter sits by your side, on one of those weird little bumps where the ventilation system, or at least, that’s what you are guessing it is for, breaks up the flat concrete.

He tips his head back, eyes slitted in pleasure at the pleasant breeze and you can’t help but admire his profile in the afternoon sun, that merciful wind playing through his hair, and tugging at his collar like some shoujo introduction. You snigger at your thoughts ignoring the bemused glance he throws your way and offering him a bite of last night’s teriyaki chicken. He declines with a smile, his eyes slipping off to the side slightly and holding up his wrapped bento. “I got all I need”

You eye the bright green, bunny patterned covering with a wry grin. “Is that the same bento cloth you used in kindergarten?”

You’re amazed you remembered something like that.

Sugawara grimaces, looking around the rooftop in mock chagrin before leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Not so loud, the others might start to question my manliness! Unfortunately I ripped my normal one and I have had to resort to bunnies, oh the shame!”

You push his shoulder playfully, mercifully creating some space between the two of you. It does things to your blood pressure to have his breath ghost across your ear.

“I’m already questioning your manliness Sugawara-san. I mean you’re prettier than almost all the girls in this school. How’s that even fair?”

“Almost? You wound me [Name]! And why are you still calling me Sugawara-san? Drop the formality already!”

You smile faintly and go back to your food, content to eat in silence. Sugawara- _Suga_ unwraps his bento and gives a happy sigh at what he finds. Shovelling it into his mouth at record speed.

You follow his lead for a time, taking small bites of your food and staring out over the view that your little ventilation hump provides. But you’re waiting, tense and nervous for the barrage of invasive questions, the pitying looks. You wish he’d just mention the other night and get this over with. You fix your eyes on his pale, slim fingered hands, this will be easier if you don’t have to look at his face.

“So when are you gonna ask?”

Those hands freeze, there’s no question as to what you are talking about. You hear him swallow “I’m not, if you don’t want to tell me that’s your choice. It’s not my decision as to what you diverge about you past experiences or personal life, and besides _…_ You…don’t owe me anything.”

You’re eyes widen at that, you force yourself to focus on the cute octopus apple slices your grandma insists on giving you so that you still don’t have to look at the ‘too caring for his own good’ face of this beautiful boy. Suga keeps speaking.

“I…actually know a bit about it anyway, from my mum, and your grandparents and I want you to know that if there is anything I can do, I will do it.”

You wince, great. It’s only a matter of time before it becomes too much for him to handle. Everyone’s a do-gooder until they realise how much work is involved. It’s not that you don’t think he means it now. He does. You can tell by the way he is looking at you with his heart in his eyes when you finally raise you head to see it.

But a week from now, a month? When he’s still comforting you about the same old thing and helping you through the same old fears. And now it’s eating up other parts of his life and he can’t devote any more time to this constant circle of recovery, relapse, back to square one. And you won’t even blame him for leaving. You can’t ask someone to put their life on hold for you. What a horrible, oppressive place to be. You wouldn’t wish this on anyone. Especially on a kind, thoughtful, talented boy with so much to offer the world and his peers.

“[Name]?”

You shake yourself out of your thoughts and try to focus on what Sugawara is saying.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Do you still wanna come over to my house after practice?”

It’s only a matter of time before it gets too much for him, the same way it did with the others at your old school. But you like Sugawara, maybe even, you know _like_ like. And if he still wants to be around you you’re not going to be the one to put up the walls first.

You smile, trying to make it seem perky and excited, and it’s only half faked. There’s always a small part of your chest that squeezes when you think of the journey to his house and the way you walk side by side, fingers brushing on every other step, and maybe this will be the time one of you bridges those last few centimeters and interlocks your fingers.

“I’d love to.”

But it’s only a matter of time, it’s only a matter of time.

It’s stupid but Sugawara feels really happy that you are still willing to hang out, even though he was completely useless when you needed him. You had joked around with him, even going so far as to call him pretty. Which probably should make him feel put out that you didn’t say handsome or sexy but pretty is okay. He smiles recalling you’re words. “Prettier than almost all the girls in this school.” You would definitely be the reason for the ‘almost’ in that sentence he muses, oh and Shimizu obviously.

Practice seems to drag on forever. Daichi rolls his eyes in the changing room afterwards claiming “I can just tell that you have plans with [Name]-san now”. When Sugawara asks how that even possible Daichi just shrugs and says-

“You just have this look, I can’t decide if it’s sweet or gross.”

Asahi stops pretending he isn’t listening to chip in “You’re also always more distracted in practice.”

“Wow thanks guys, nice to know you have my back when it comes to these things.”

“Always here for you.”

 Daichi face grows more subdued “How is she?”

Sugawara shrugs, careful to not let the bubbling pool of insecurities and worry that Daichi’s words conjure up in his stomach leak into his voice.

“Okay I think, she doesn’t really talk to me about…that stuff."

“But you want her too.”

Sometimes Asahi is too perceptive for his own good.

Sugawara mulls his words over in the brief darkness of his shirt as he pulls it over his head “Yeah, I guess. But it’s not really that, I want her to rely on me you know?”

As usual Sugawara sets his pace slightly slower than the others so that the two of you can have some semblance of privacy. It’s such a regular occurrence now that not even Hinata casts his ‘fugitive’ wide-eyed glances at ‘"Suga-san and his ghwaa friend".

Your hand brushes against his and he swears he can feel the heat radiating out from that small touch throughout his whole body like a warm wave of butterflies. In the back of his mind an embarrassed voice tells him that he shouldn’t be swooning over such an insubstantial thing. He’s almost graduated high school for crying out loud! But he can’t stop his face heating up just slightly, nor the strange but not entirely unpleasant squirmy feeling in his belly. The same one from earlier when you had offered him some of your food from lunch time, usually he’s okay with the indirect kisses sharing food created, I mean, you always tended to eat half of his food anyway. But something about the way the sun had hit your face, and caught in your hair told him that he really would lose it and confess or do something equally stupid if he had accepted.

And let’s face it, you have enough on your mind to worry about without having to deal with answering his feelings. For now he’s content with this strange dance of lingering glances and soft smiles.

Well that’s until your palm brushes tentatively against his.

Sugawara’s heart stutters in his chest at the touch, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that his hand might be kinda clammy. You don’t seem to mind, threading your fingers lightly through his own, hardly gripping at all so he has an opening to pull away and brush it off.

 He doesn’t, instead his fingers tighten their hold on yours -clammy hands be damned- He’s not letting an opportunity like this pass itself up.

When the team go their separate ways with goodbyes and good-natured ribbing he can feel Hinata’s eyes, Kageyama’s confused glare and Daichi’s smug smile burning into the back of his head but he doesn’t let go of your hand.

At home the dance is still the same, but it’s like everything has stepped up a notch. And he swears you’re finding excuses to touch him! A hand on his shoulder to look over at his Calc homework - _and did you have to lean so close to him to see it?_ Brushing his fingers every time he hands you one of the dinner dishes, a small bolt of lightning arching from the point of contact each time and making his head melt and his heart race.

Its torture, you’ve never looked so cute, your skin so soft or your lips so kissable. It driving him mad.

His mother isn’t helping things. With her knowing smiles in his direction each time you do something remarkably cute and he can’t help but stare. It’s like she knows _exactly_ how close he is to cracking and just planting one on you. And _that_ in itself is a mortifying realization.

It’s a blessing and a curse when you’re finished cleaning up and escape up to his room. _Escape_ because he just knows his mother is burning to say something soon and it’s sure to be embarrassing -even if it’s 100% true. ‘I think my son is completely infatuated with you, please go easy on him’. The escape is a curse because you immediately fall onto his bed and curl up against his pillows, lamenting your tiredness to him while he tries and fails to restart cognitive thought.

You tuck your legs up under you and your skirt rises a couple inches up your bare leg and does disastrous things to his heart _-Has you uniform always been that short?_

But it’s your warm, happy, slightly tired smile that breaks him.

“I think I love you.”

It takes him a few moments, and your completely shell-shocked expression for him to realize just exactly what he has blurted out. _Wow, way to completely scare someone away with the depth of your feelings idiot._

He is mortified, and that’s when he starts babbling. “No! Um –that not, I mean I _like_ you, yeah, that well er...” Sugawara gives up and just sinks to his knees where he stands, his ashen face hidden behind his palms.

“I am so so sorry,” he mumbles between his fingers. If you leave now, he’ll understand. Not that it wouldn’t hurt, and seeing you at school every day would be even worse, but he will just have to bear with it, or maybe move to Alaska, yeah. That’s probably his best bet. He’s always wanted to see a moose, did they even have those in Alaska? Well he’s gonna find out soon.

“Suga calm down.”

Sugawara groans and lowers his hands, knowing his face is most likely a nice shade of pink.

“I like you too you know.”

He stops breathing at your crooked smile

“ _I_ was the one that held your hand before you know. Did you think I just did it for fun?” Your smile grows wider before you smush it into one of his pillows. It’s so unbearably cute.

“You like me?”

He knows he’s sounding a bit slow, but its one thing to suspect someone’s feelings, another to hear them voiced. Especially when it’s exactly what you want to hear.

You nod, a happy flush staining your cheeks. It’s one of those moments in life that seem unreal. Like a movie or a music video, something more than his average high school life in Miyagi.

The sun has long slipped below the horizon and the only light sources in the room are his bedside lamp and the street light that’s annoyingly placed outside his window. It sucks when he’s trying to sleep, but right now, when its throwing light across your face, in a way that is both mysterious and alluring, annoying isn’t the adjective that comes to mind.

You’re so so beautiful, and brave and strong. You give him an amused expression but don’t move from your place on the bed.

“Why are you still on the floor? Get over her and hug me.”

Suga matches your grin, standing and walking the short distance to your side. You sit up, arms already reaching for him and he sinks into them like he’s meant to be there. Pressing his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply.

You make no move to end the embrace, simply drawing aimless patterns on his back and humming contentedly.

“This means where dating right?” Again Suga is _amazed_ at his eloquence, what a sweet talker…..

You freeze in his arms and that’s all it takes for Suga’s heart to sink all the way down to his toes but then your hands resume there gentle caresses. “If you want.”

Suga _beams_ , pulling back slightly so you’re face to face. He can’t think of anything poetic or romantic to say _–and really throughout this whole exchange he has been neither of those things-_ So he just says the truth. In a soft voice. His hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“I’m really happy.”

Your answering smiles is brilliant, you lean forwards slightly to bump your forehead against his, breathing one word into the silence.

 “Good.”

Sugawara’s good mood lasts all the way to your house. After realizing the time he had jumped off his bed exclaiming that he would walk you home. You don’t protest, and that’s how you find yourself walking hand in hand with your new boyfriend through the streets.

From the corner of your eye you can see he can’t stop smiling and it’s hard to look away. He has always been pretty, exceptionally so, but when he smiles it’s like something artist try to capture in their paints or poets try to explain with their words. It’s beautiful.

You tug at his hand halting your progress. He looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to say something. You don’t. Instead you reach up on your tippy toes and press a fleeting kiss to the mole beneath his eye, like you’ve been wanting too since he first appeared back into your life.

You pull back, one corner of your mouth lifting upwards. “Sorry, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

Suga’s pretty brown eyes, which are wide with surprise now turn soft and tender and heated all at the same time.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your heart thuds painfully loud in your chest, eyes zeroing in on the delicate curve of his mouth, the slope of his nose, his pale eyelashes. Your hands run up his arms, past his shoulder to his neck, feeling the skin breakout into goose bumps under your hands. You run a finger along the curve of his cheekbone, then down to outline his bottom lip.

Suga stays perfectly still, his eyes watching your every move.

 “Please,” your voice is husky in the silence of the moment. “Please do.”

It’s not that the world goes still. It’s more like the world is suddenly only the feel of his lips on yours, the hand that moves to slink fingers through the hair at the back of your head, It’s the other resting at the small of your back, bunched in your shirt. It’s the happy sigh that fans across your lips when you gently lick into his mouth.

 It’s like the first breath after breaking the surface of a lake, the first sign of light after a long darkness. It’s sweet and sensual and makes your head spin in the best possible way.

You’ve kissed other guys before but none of them have made you feel this light and this safe.

Suga pulls away much too soon and instantly you miss his lips.  A cheeky smile steals itself across his face, but you can still see real joy there. “Sorry, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

You poke him in the side for his cheesiness but his grin only widens at that. Laughing carefree and happy, linking your hand in his as you stride out in the direction of your home once again.

When your house comes within sight Suga chuckles at your side, claiming “I get to kiss you goodbye too.”

“Oh? Who decided that?”

“Me, boyfriend’s privilege.”

You don’t bother answering, you just swing back to look at him expectantly when you’re in front of your door.

He grins at your expression, obviously able to read the “Well?~” in your raised eyebrows.

Suga wastes no time in leaning down and claiming your lips with his own. It’s chaste compared with you first. But like before there’s just something about Suga’s kiss, so honest and sensual that makes your body and heart ache for more.

You slant your head sideways, hands moving to clutch the front of his shirt in a tight grip. Suga smiles into the kiss at your eagerness but you make no apologies. If you’re running on borrowed time you’d be damned if you don’t enjoy this as much as you can. Maybe that’s selfish but Suga’s blissful smile after he finally pulls away makes it hard to care about being noble.

Suga takes a while to leave, mostly because he keeps stopping on his way down the road to glance behind him and wave. It’s so stupid and cheesy but you can’t stop smiling. You’re so happy, so calm, and for once the reason you won’t be able to sleep tonight is because of nerves and excitement for tomorrow when you will see him again (and maybe sneak in a few kisses here and there). It won’t be because you’re remembering the smell of engine fuel, and the way your mother’s scream had cut off on impact.

You shake off these dangerous thoughts, waving one last time at the distant white haired boy before he slips around the corner and is lost to your sight.

You rub at your arms suddenly feeling cold and alone, but again you shove those ugly thoughts from your head. You’re _happy_  and nothing is going to ruin your good mood, nothing is going to spoil this, and Suga likes you, _Loves_ you even. _(You won’t bring that up simply because he had looked so mortified at his slip up)._ But you can still think it. He loves you.

You can’t quite keep the small, malicious voice in your head silent as it whispers two small words.

_"For now"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I start uni tomorrow and I wanted to get this out before things get hectic. Also stay tuned for the next Tsukishima x reader chapter (which seems to be my most popular thread) and a new Kenma one! yay!!!  
> If you have any prompts or things you would like to see, hit me up and if I like the sound of it or it fits in with the stuff I have in mindn I would be happy to give it a go!  
> Till next time reader-chan!


	15. Round two (Tsukishima Kei)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t know why you keep saying that, I did make you come remember?”
> 
> “Well yeah but you also left me completely high and dry when we actually had sex. You gotta pay that back you know?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Throws more porn at you*  
> I'm already going to hell so meh, here's the goods

Tsukishima is pissed. That stupid kid from down the hall is here again. Simpering around your desk with his vapid smiles and _oh my god_  Tsukishima wants to scream. It’s pathetic to watch, _and_ noisy. School is not the time or place to play out dumb love dramas. This isn’t even his fucking class!

And honestly shouldn’t you be studying or something? Aren’t you a goody-two shoes or some shit? One who likes storeroom sex apparently but still! Did you have to flirt right in front of his bloody face?

“Do you wanna go to the park after school [Name]-San?”

“It’s…kinda hot though isn’t it?”

“Oh! Oh yeah, you’re right haha.”

If Tsukishima rolls his eyes anymore they are going to fall out of his face. His turns up his music and turns so he can glare out of the window, squinting against the sun as if it too had personally offended him.

When study period ends with the usual scramble into the hallway Tsukishima sighs in relief, as you make to leave with whatever-his-name-is he wraps one long fingered hand around you wrist pulling you to a stop. Don’t-know-don’t-care makes to protest but a glare from Tsukishima has him scampering out the door with a weak, "um well see you later."

“What?” you ask with a huff, plonking yourself back into your seat and rummaging through your bag.

Tsukishima takes a moment to compose his thoughts. _How do you politely tell someone you want to fuck them into oblivion?_

You don’t seem surprised at his silence and busy yourself with the strawberry milk carton you take out of your bag, piercing the top with the flimsy pink straw with more force then necessary just to hear the satisfying sound.

Meanwhile Tsukishima settles on-

“We confirmed our mutual hatred. But you never said it was a onetime thing.”

You don’t say anything in favour of sipping on your drink with raised eyebrows. Your face says you understand what he’s talking about so at least he doesn’t have to spell it out. He fidgets under your gaze when the silence drags on but just as he about to say something cutting you answer-

“So basically you’re saying you want to fuck?”

Tsukishima surveys you raised eyebrows and slight smirk with a gamblers mind. _What are his odds here?_ He crosses his arms with a huff.

“Pretty much yeah.”

You snort unattractively into your drink and now it he is really disgruntled because he’s not even put off by it.

You wipe your chin with the back of your hand breaking out into a wry smile, eyes filled with mirth.

“Ah you’re such a romantic. You gonna make me come this time?”

Tsukishima glowers to try and disguise his burning face, snapping out childishly.

“You going to beg pathetically again?”

Neither of you acknowledge the pink staining your cheeks in favour of attempting to out glare each other until Tsukishima breaks eye contact to stare at the ceiling.

“Tch, So are we going to screw or not?”

Tsukishima gets the peculiar feeling you are measuring him up for something. Whatever it is he seems to pass because you shrug your shoulders, speaking around your straw, “Fine, but not in a storeroom, that was bloody uncomfortable. My parents aren’t home till late tonight, does eight suit you? Your practice is finished by then right?”

“S’ fine.”

“Ahh the eloquence of Tsukishima Kei.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes for what feels like the tenth time in the last five minutes and leaves you to stroll back to your friends. But not before flicking your ear as you move past. Grinning at your whiny protest when he’s out of your sight and moving down the corridor.

He falls into step with his best friend ignoring Yamaguchi’s shocked expression with practiced ease.

“What’s got you so happy Tsukki?”

“Shut up Yamaguchi.”

 

“I don’t know why you keep saying that, I did make you come remember?”

“Well _yeah_ but you also left me completely high and dry when we actually _had_ sex. You gotta pay that back you know?”

It seems rather improper to be having such a conversation while walking past your family living room but you two have never been the most normal of couples. _–Not that you actually are a couple._

He must be taking too long to observe the house because you click your tongue and practically drag him through the rest of it to your bedroom.

He tries not to pay attention to the little pieces of you scattered about the room. Like the stacks of creepily organised textbooks, the motivational poster behind your desk and the inexplicable bunny clock on your bedside. It doesn’t matter. He’s here for sex, nothing more.

“You have any STD’s?”

Tsukishima just glares.

You hold up your hands with a long suffering sigh. “Just asking. I’m on the pill now so don’t worry about condoms.”

Your matter of fact tone is lost on him as he realizes that _1_. You hadn’t picked up on the fact that the storeroom escapade had been his first time and _2_. Maybe that meant he has above average skills for a beginner? The thought makes him feel pretty smug.

When he returns to the present you’re unbuttoning you shirt and giving him a sideways look that says _‘well? What are you waiting for?’_

Tsukishima follows suit and then joins you on your bed when you’re both free of your uniforms.

Hovering over your naked body, he watches your eyes flicker to your bedside table then back up at him. You grin, voice annoying and singsong. “You have four hours, make them count.”

Tsukishima snorts, “Who’s ‘romantic’ now?” but his hands dutifully trace up your sides to shape the curve of your breasts _-actually there’s nothing ‘dutiful’ about it, he’s been itching to do that since you got naked._

 You flick his forehead in return for this morning, smirking at the glare that gets you.

“Don’t use my own words against me bastard.”

His fingers pinch your nipples in retaliation before he lowers his head, pulling your left nipple into his mouth and suckling till its red and aching before moving on to the right one and giving it the same treatment.

He glances at your hands fisted into the sheets and decides you’ve had enough of that. And besides, something has been playing on his mind since the storeroom.

“Can you touch yourself?”

“What?!” You flush all the way down to your chest, lips pouted as you thump him on the shoulder.

Tsukishima shrugs, wincing inwardly at his now throbbing arm “You were fine with it last time, I want to see it again.”

You stare at him for a moment and again Tsukishima has that weird feeling that you are searching his face for…..something. It’s only a second and then you are back to your usual, annoying self.

“Waa so perverted Tsukki.~” You draw out the irksome nickname so that it’s whiny and grating. But your hand is moving down your stomach so Tsukishima doesn’t comment on it.

Instead he sits back slightly so he has a better view, watching your body shudder as the pad of your finger ghosts over the skin covering your clit.

You’re in no hurry, as your fingers brush past your folds, dipping into your entrance, circling round your clit in a lazy fashion, and Tsukishima is completely mesmerized. It’s so much better than any kind of porno he’s ever watched. A soft moan jerks his gaze away from your flushed sex and he is shocked to find your eyes open and locked onto his face with a burning intensity that makes his hands shake and his cock impatient.

You’re…..masturbating to him. The full reality of that shocks him out of his mind. You give him a cheeky grin before your eyes falls shut at the sensation of two fingers stretching your inner walls.

Without thinking he shuffles his body further away before lying on his stomach, ridged cock trapped uncomfortably between his abdomen and the sheets. With you glistening sex in front of his face the only natural response is to bury his tongue between your lips.

Your groan of surprise sounds so very delightful above him as he curls his tongue between the fingers pumping in and out of your increasingly wet entrance. When you spread your fingers apart Tsukishima makes sure to plunge his tongue deep inside you, swirling it round in a way that makes you near shout his name at the ceiling.

 He grins against your heat, pulling at your wrist so that it is out of the way and replacing your two fingers with his own longer, thicker ones. Distracting you from the bite of the stretch by moving his lips higher up your core to suck at your aching clit. He not feeling patient so he doesn’t hold back. Curling his fingers in the way he knows you like and sucking harshly on the most sensitive part of you. He’s not bringing you to the edge so much as throwing you over it.

Your back arches of the bed and your hands clutch at his hair, tugging at it harshly as your body writhes against his mouth, his fingers fucking you the entire way through it. When you finish he takes them out, wiping the mess on the sheets, watching in amusement as you try to get your breathing under control.

Your voice is drawn out and breathy.  “What happened to just watching?”

“I got impatient and decided this wasn’t a spectator sport.”

He dips his fingers into your entrance to swipe at the clear fluid there, holding it up for inspection just to be an ass “And besides, it doesn’t look like you minded.”

 He make sure to keep his voice coolly uninterested because he knows it will rile you up. And it does. Much more than he thought it would.

Your hands grip his shoulders and push him off so that he lands on his back beside you with a grunt of surprise. Normally his weight and height would make such a thing impossible but you caught him off balance.

You swing your leg over his thigh so that you are straddling him, spitting your words out, yet it does nothing to make you any less attractive to him. There must be something wrong with his brain...

“You’re so bloody annoying.”

“Same to you.”

Tsukishima gives you a smug smile but you ignore it in favour of wrapping your fingers around his half hard cock, stroking it till its flushed and dribbling pre-come, you rub the pad of one finger over the slit, smirking at the tiny appreciative sound that he doesn’t manage to stifle. You repeat the motion just to hear it again before shuffling lower down his body and giving a soft kiss to the redden tip of his cock. His body is ridged, his teeth digging into his lower lip as you softly suck at the head. Wondering if this is all it would take to make him come.  

When you’re sick of teasing him you release his swollen tip with a pop.  Moving up his body quickly till your dripping heat is aligned with his cock. Tsukishima doesn’t say anything but his hands move obediently to your waist so you take that has your cue to begin. You relax your body as much as you can, guiding him inside of you with your hand. The stretch is more familiar then it was the first time, and you adjust much quicker to his size.

With one last grin you push yourself up on your knees before thrusting down, moaning at the delicious friction of his cock pumping in and out of your tight, wet core.

You ride him slowly, enjoying the full stretch of your inner walls as you sink down and the aching emptiness when you rise up. You’re in no hurry. Four hours is a long time.

Tsukishima doesn’t seem to share your sentiment. He makes an impatient noise, fingers digging into your sides as he tries to move you faster down his cock. You clench your muscles around him in punishment for trying to take over, grinning when his brow furrows and his eyes clench shut behind his glasses. A soft groan slipping past his lips.

Without much thought you lean down and kiss him. Now that you think about it you haven’t kissed him at all this afternoon. You should do it more often, he’s a good kisser. His lips are slightly chapped but warm and surprisingly gentle as they answer your own. You’re both still fighting to be the one to decide the pace, but his kisses are anything but rough. It’s sweet and tender and makes your head spin, which the kiss of a fuckbuddy probably should not be doing but screw it.

Tsukishima pulls away from your lips and presses kiss after kiss across any part of you he can reach, your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. His hands squeeze your ass and you can’t help but tighten around him, you swear you can feel every vein, every ridge of his perfect cock straining against your insides. Below you Tsukishima’s eyes blow wide at the sensation and your name tumbles off his tongue. A whispered prayer that cuts of into a grunt of pleasure.

You falter in your thrusts staring at him in surprise. Because that _really_ didn’t sound like the way you’re supposed to say your fuckbuddy's name. You had no idea Tsukishima’s voice could even sound like that.

But you should have known he was just teasing because the bastard uses your momentary surprise to move his hands back to your hips and lift you up his cock, before using gravity and no small amount of his strength to work you down till your flush against him and quivering inside from the shock of the stimulation.

He doesn’t want this lazy fucking, he wants you shaking with desperation.

So he does it again and again, his lips pulled smug at each throaty cry he rips from you as you arch against him. Putting your body on show for his pleasure as your tits bounce each time he lets you fall onto his weeping cock.

Tsukishima leers at the sight of him disappearing between your folds. He loves the reality of fucking. Loves how dirty and primal it is. All sweat and come and moaning, oh the way you moan!

He remembers the stupid boy from this morning and clutches at your hips tighter, using his superior strength to dictate how fast and hard your rhythm is.

You may be on top but the way he buries his cock deep within you on each piercing thrust leaves you with no question as to who has the control here.

You're already feeling sensitive from your earlier orgasm and the fat cock pounding your insides coupled with the fingers that find your clit has your body seizing up in pleasure.

He fucks you through it, rough and meticulous, just the way you would imagine Tsukishima would fuck in all the weeks before this whole thing started.

When he doesn’t stop you all but squeal, insides shivering and oversensitive. Eyes watering as you try to wrap your lips around words. Your core clenching tighter and tighter as you try to squirm away but at the same time bury him deeper inside of you.

“Tsu-…too….it’s too good –Ah!”

You’re out of it, eyes half lidden and dazed, flushed and trembling. There’s some drool peeking out over your lip and Tsukishima is crazy over it.

Your post-orgasm state is hindering the effectiveness of this position, so Tsukishima pulls out, relishing in you disappointed whimper, before throwing you onto your stomach beside him and clambering over your body.

He hooks his long fingered hands around you waist and pulls you up from the mattress, nudging your legs apart with his knee till you are face down ass up, and ready to take his cock again. You don’t even try to fight it, watching him over your shoulder with glazed eyes and a weeping, twitching entrance.

Tsukishima gives a smug smile and you flush, reaching back to try and cover the way your core is so exposed in this position, but a playful slap to one of your ass cheeks tells you that’s not allowed.

One hand wraps itself around his flushed cock, the other grips at your ass cheek, pulling upwards so that your core is even more exposed and vulnerable. He takes a moment to just appreciate the sight, until you growl at him to hurry up, spitting the word "pervert" against the pillows.

He smacks your ass again, slightly harder this time, and you bite at the soft material in front of you to muffle your embarrassing squeak. His large hand is back on your ass, pulling your cheeks apart, then dipping downwards to part your glistening fold with his long fingers. You feel the head of his cock kiss the circle of your entrance and your breath catches slightly.

There’s no slow insertion this time. Tsukishima simply plunges forward in one thrust that has you clawing at the bedsheets as his thick cock stretches your aching walls to their limit. God its deep like this, and the quiet moan above you tells you Tsukishima has realized this too.

He bends over your back, bracing himself with one hand against the mattress while the other circles your body to roughly fondle your breasts and pinch your nipples, mouthing hot kisses against the back of your neck and sucking lightly on the rim of your ear.

The shift changes the angle slightly and his cock hits you in all the right places and has you groaning a garbled version of his name.

Tsukishima catches it and he swears it is the hottest thing he’s ever heard in his life. His hand lays off your, tingling, reddened nipples and travels down your body till his fingers part your slick folds and his fingers find your swollen clit, where they start a brutal pace that has you writhing under him.

You’re near sobbing with pleasure. He’s gotten good at this. Too good at this you realise, he has purposely sets a pace that has you edging the brink but by watching and feeling your body he’s managed to learn the signs that you’re about to come. And now he has you skirting that blinding pleasure but keeps pulling off every time you are sure you can’t take anymore.

His fingers slow just slightly on your poor, abused clit and it has you crying out in distress. You taste salt in your mouth and realise you are _actually_ crying from the frustration of this lanky basted teasing a sure to be mind-blowing orgasm.

Your voice rises three octaves over the words “Hurry up!” and the embarrassing sob of pleasure as his fingers all but pinch your clit has you turning fifty shades of red.

Tsukishima chuckles darkly at your distressed writhing, breathing harshly against the back of your neck. “Ah you take my cock so well [Name]-san.”

You moan at his words _. Who knew dirty talk would get you so hot?_

“Say my name.”

Apparently you’re not the only one it does things to. You grin, glad that you still have some power here

“T-Tsukishima.”

Tsukishima growls at that, hips snapping forwards to meet yours faster. “Louder.”

“Tsukishima!”

He comes with a growl of "mine", biting the nape of your neck hard enough to bruise. You don’t feel it. Your coiled muscles tense tighter and tighter, before the sensation of hot come filling your heat and his cock twitching deep inside you sets you off, biting into your pillow to muffle a scream.

Tsukishima peels off you panting before collapsing at your side. With nothing to hold you up your legs give out against the bed, come dripping out of your sensitive entrance and staining the bedsheets. You grimace, you’ll have to change them later.

Neither of you say anything for a time, as Tsukishima’s breathing slows, eyes closed and face so relaxed he could be sleeping. You stretch out the kinks in your body, humming at the warm ache in your core and attempting to fix your mussed hair with your fingers.

Your stomach grumbles and you glance at Tsukishima, debating over asking him if he wants food. You decide against it and swing your legs over the edge of the bed but a hand on your arm stops you from getting up. Your shock makes it easy for him to pull you against his naked chest. You make a noise of surprise but curl up to him obediently enough. “Wouldn’t have taken you for an after sex snuggle monster. “

Tsukishima shuts his eyes again with a click of his tongue. “Shut up, you’re noisy.”

You don’t bother replying, drawing nonsense patterns over his chest and humming softly.

It’s actually…really pleasant. Screw eating, If the blond asshole is being cute you wanna stick around to see it.

He really does falls asleep to. You remove his glasses with careful fingers, not wanting him to roll over and crack the lenses. You ignore your protesting stomach in favour of watching his chest rise and fall on each deep breath, debating whether you are gonna take a snap of his frankly adorable sleeping face to use as blackmail in the future. _-Or maybe his spent cock resting on his thigh, you know, for science._

When Tsukishima wakes up you’re nowhere to be found and the space beside him is cold. He sits up, confused as to why everything looks blurry till he spots the vague outline of his glasses on the bedside table. Suddenly hyper-aware of his own nakedness Tsukishima searches around on the floor for his uniform, pulling it on and grumbling at the wrinkles in his shirt. _Where are you?_ He’s pretty miffed that you left him. Which is an embarrassing thing to admit in itself.

A clanking noise that sounds suspiciously like pots and pans seems to be coming from somewhere in the house. That’s when he notices the delicious smell wafting through the air and decides to follow it.

He opens your bedroom door and steps out into the hall and the smell grows stronger. He hopes it’s because you’re cooking something and _not_ because your parents decided to come home early. That is a conversation he’s rather avoid.

His fears are unwarranted. It’s just you, back to him as you throw together some kind of curry, hair wet from a presumed shower that makes Tsukishima feel grimy.

Better than the smell of food is what you are wearing. A baggy, faded blue t-shirt that barely covers your ass and a brightly patterned thong  that draws his eyes right to it. God he fucking loves your ass.

With a yawn he walks over to you and lays his head atop of yours, snorting at your tiny gasp of surprise, and smirking when you quickly relax when you realise who it is and hit him with the end of your mixing spoon.

“What are you making?”

“Food, you better like it.”

Tsukishima grunts non-committedly, hands following the curve of your waist and hips till they inevitably reach your ass. His hands absentmindedly kneading the supple muscle and fiddling with the bow on the top of your thong. His face grows smug when you let him have his way, occasionally ordering him to grab spices or more carrots from the fridge. Shits down right domestic.

Despite the small argument over the proper amount of spice you finish up in no time while Tsukishima sets the table. The curry turns out to be delicious, despite you ignoring his opinion on the spice, and it isn’t till the feint call of "We're home!’" that Tsukishima dodges out the backdoor heart racing at the close call.

The walk home is ….interesting.

He can’t keep convincing himself that he just wants you for sex. - _Though it is admittedly great. Like holy fucking shit was it great._ But it’s undeniable that he had been just a tinsy bit upset when he had thought you had ditched him in your bed. Or that finding you cooking him dinner had made him happy. _And_ though you’re annoying as hell, and frequently do his head in. You’re also clever and pretty and have _the nicest ass he has ever seen._

He likes being around you, he likes winding you up and he’s never felt like this before about anyone. Because even though you give him shit all the time, he also gets the feeling that you understand him. And that….feels really nice.

So that’s why it’s really not his fault when he blows up at you the next day.

Because he just coming to grips with his strange new heart,  _and didn’t you feel it too?_   So why the _fuck_ are you still hanging out with that loser that Tsukishima flatly refuses to learn the name off?

“What the fuck are you doing?”

You look up from you muesli bar with raised eyebrows, still-don’t-care looks flabbergasted in comparison.

“Eating lunch? That’s what people do at lunchtime generally…”

Tsukishima glares down at you, and at the hand currently resting on your shoulder. He knows he’s overreacting and he knows everyone is watching, wondering what on earth has got the usually apathetic blond so worked up.

He could handle it when this asshole turned up at your classroom again, hell he could even take it when he had pathetically attempted to ask you to hang out again.

What he couldn’t handle was when the asshole had noticed the purpling hickey peeking out from under your collar at the back of your neck and immediately started plucking at your clothing worriedly, exclaiming that someone was beating you up and that he’d "protect you [Name]-san!" in his stupid high pitched voice.

Tsukishima rolls his eyes at your answer to his question and turns to the fucker touching _his_ girl.

“Actually [Name] got those when we fucked last night so if you would kindly get your hands off her I might let you off easy okay?” Tsukishima smiles sweetly, ignoring the sudden outbreak of whispers from his classmates and Yamaguchi’s shocked squeak.

In comparison you don’t look too upset at having the whole class privy to your sex life. Actually you just look kinda amused…

Still-not-gonna-learn-his-name is gaping like a fish, but Tsukishima ignores him and reaches for your wrist, pulling you out of the classroom without further ado.

When you come to a semi-deserted stretch of corridor he swings around to face you, working to keep the irritation out of his voice.  He’s not successful.

“Don’t talk to him anymore.”

“…..Why?”

“Just don’t.” He’s snapping now, and he can tell from your face that you don’t like it.

“What so I can’t talk to other people now? What the fuck Tsukishima you don’t get-“

“Because he’s into you!” Tsukishima almost yells. Why don’t you understand! It pisses him off that your still observing him in that mildly interested way of yours, like – _weirdly enough_ \- he usually would be in this situation.

He hates that you invoke such a strong reaction in him, someone who prides himself on keeping his cool when others go crazy….Or does he like it? He’s confused and angry and jealous like a kid in the sandpit and it does his head in.

The silence drag on and on but at least it gives him the space he needs to calm down.

“So what you’re saying is….” You sound like you’re putting the pieces together and Tsukishima’s not sure if he wants you to or not. “…That _you’re_ ‘into’ me, right?”

When Tsukishima doesn’t say anything you take that as confirmation, rightly so. “Huh… I wasn’t expecting that.”

You still look suspicious, as if you’re expecting a crowd to jump out of hiding and yell "Lol just kidding!" or some shit.

“So what you wanna date me?”

“Yes.” _Honestly why is this so hard to understand?!_

“….Really. Like, you wanna be my boyfriend?”

“What do you think dating means stupid?!”

“Ah the romance of Tsukishima Kei.”

Now your grinning like you’ve just heard the funniest joke ever and it makes his insides squirm. You’re still grinning when you reach out to lace your hand in his, tugging him down the corridor.

“Come on then caramel slice, you can help me get the good bread in the cafeteria.”

“.......You are so _not_ calling me fucking ‘caramel slice’.”

“Whatever you want cupcake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you guys liked that one, comments are always really appreciated, they are just so motivating. :)  
> If you wanna see a character or a scenario I'll see what I can do, though it's not a guarantee I actually have some chapters lined up from reader prompts so you never know right ;)


	16. Skinny Love (Kozume Kenma)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Usually Kenma doesn’t like the fact that Kuroo knows, but it feels good to tell him, like a weight has been lifted. His secret lighter for being shared. Even though he is well aware his friend can’t really do anything it’s nice to not feel alone.  
> Later that week Kuroo gets him a new game and Kenma throws himself into it. Trying to get the image of the vice-captains hands on the small of your back out of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Bangs pots together* new character new character new character!!!!  
> Heres Kenma's intro chapter yay!  
> This is inspired from a prompt from a reader because I just loved the idea :)

You’re eight years old when you ask him.

“Ne Kenma, do you think you will meet someone one day and fall in love with them?”

Kenma’s fingers barely miss a beat on his gameboy “No.”

Your sigh is wistful in the near silence of his bedroom “I hope _I_ do.”

The small boy looks up, a frown between his eyebrows. “Why would you need to meet someone else?”

You puff up your cheeks at his silliness waving your own gameboy in his direction “Isn’t it obvious? I want to fall in love!”

Kenma looks at you for a moment saying nothing, then he goes back to his game seeming to forget the whole conversation.

 

He’s just starting his second year of middle school when he sees you kissing the soccer team vice-captain in an empty classroom.

He turns around immediately, feet unconsciously taking him towards where Kuroo always ate his lunch. His friend, despite appearances, is very perceptive and can tell straight away that something is upsetting him. It takes half a day of gentle probing until Kenma tells him what he saw, eyes fixed on his brown school shoes. Kuroo doesn’t say anything and Kenma hates the pitying look he just knows is being directed at him

“I’m sorry Kenma, I know that must have upset you.”

Usually Kenma doesn’t like the fact that Kuroo knows, but it feels good to tell him, like a weight has been lifted. His secret lighter for being shared. Even though he is well aware his friend can’t really _do_ anything it’s nice to not feel alone.

Later that week Kuroo gets him a new game and Kenma throws himself into it. Trying to get the image of the vice-captains hands on the small of your back out of his head.

Two months later when you’re crying about the whole cheating debacle he shows it to you and you both stay awake all night to play it start to finish. And in the weak morning light he can’t help but run his hands through your hair as you curl up beside him on his beanbag. –Just once. Before he gets embarrassed and tries to get some sleep himself.

 

It’s his 14 birthday when Kuroo gets him that bloody dating sim game. Frankly he’s never enjoyed them much before and he _knows_ Kuroo knows this so he’s at a loss when he pulls the brightly coloured cover from the wrapping paper. He gives his best friend a flat stare but Kuroo only replies with his usual shit eating grin, motioning for him to turn it over.

When he does Kenma’s breath catches. Below a description of the game is a line-up of romanceable characters and the last one on the left is a dead ringer for you. _Or at least what you would look like as a 2D character._

Kenma can feel his face flooding with colour and Kuroo cackles like it’s the best thing in the world. When Kuroo leaves later that night, banging the door behind him and calling his goodbyes to his mother like he always does. Kenma picks up the gag present from where he’s discarded it in the pile of his other games and turns it over again mulling over his options.

1. He can throw it under his bed and never think about it again. 2. Take it to the shop and refund it for something he actually wants. _Or_ he can…..play it.

Feeling guilty and glancing around his room as if he expects someone to be watching him with a disapproving expression he turns on his Xbox, slightly reassured by the familiar start up noise and slots in the new CD feeling hot embarrassment in his stomach as some preppy electro-pop starts up.

The games pretty simple, decision based, full of corny dialog and cliché scenarios. But he doesn’t put it down all night. The protagonist and your doppelganger share a kiss by the light of some fireworks, get locked in a school storeroom and go on a date to a theme park respectively. It’s all nonsense, but he still gets jittery when the two characters kiss, or when ‘doppelganger-chan’ confesses her feelings.

And Kuroo’s knowing smirk at his under eye circles the next morning is even worse than his chagrin while he was playing the stupid thing.

 

Kenma’s a second year in high school now and things are looking up. The third years have graduated - _now there’s no one yelling at him to clean better or run faster during practice_. Kuroo is the new captain - _which means someone will actually listen to his advice during matches_. He’s just discovered Monster Hunter and is obsessed, you also look really cute in your new Nekoma uniform and best of all _–You are in his class._

He only notices when you sit next to his desk (as usual he’s chosen  one as close to the windows and as far back as he can).

You call his name with a smile in that upbeat, perky way you always do and Kenma’s eyes flitter to the side. His heart begins to race but he keeps his face blank and gives a small nod of his head, causing his hair to fall into his eyes before he’s back to Monster Hunter.

You prattle on about how exciting _!_! and _awesome_! everything is and never expect him to reply except when you ask him a direct question, and even then a shake or a nod is all you need before you’re off on the next topic. He used to find your high energy intimidating, now it’s just kinda exhausting. But he’s grown used to it.

Throughout the first term he watches you make friends quickly. You’re so friendly and smiley that people naturally gravitate to your side, all wanting a piece of the warmth you give off. Kenma stays quiet but he sees everything and no matter how many people gather at your side you always smile at him when you catch his eye and train home with him and Kuroo and that’s enough to keep him mollified. That is, until the boy from room 5 starts sniffing around the classroom at lunchtime.

He feels like a deflated party balloon as he watches the two of you interact. Did you have to smile so widely at him? The newcomer is handsome _–objectively speaking, but Kenma thinks he uses to much gel in his hair._ He’s also just as bright and bubbly and it makes Kenma anxious and lacking because why do you even hang out with him?

It’s not that he needs to be around people. He’s happy with some snacks and an internet connection. And maybe a blanket or two. But he can’t deny that hanging out with you and Kuroo, the team, Hinata; it’s changed his opinion on friends. And he’s nervous because he’s just coming to grips on how much he relies on having you in the picture. You haven’t dated much since the disastrous first attempt and he’s used to having you with him and Kuroo all the time. He doesn’t like change, he doesn’t want it to change. _Please don’t let it change._

 

It’s the biggest storm Tokyo has seen for a while, with gale force winds, pelting rain and several imminent typhoon warnings blaring on radios and TVs.

The trains are down and so is school so Kenma relaxes in his bed enjoying the reality of a three day weekend.

He’s wearing his favourite hoodie, and old blue one that’s faded and been washed so many times its silky soft against his skin. The blankets of his bed are cocooned around him creating a pocket of warmth around his toes in their fuzzy socks. Only his face and hands, clutched around his Ds are visible under the veritable mound of bedclothes, the pale light from the screen illuminating his face in the near darkness of his room and stabbing at his tired eyes.

He’s debating about whether he should have a mid-afternoon nap when a dripping, brightly coloured mass bursts through his door. Kenma freezes in shock and not a small amount of fear (he’s played a lot of zombie games okay?) until he realizes that it’s just you.

He sits up slowly, mourning the escaping heat under his blanket and the consequences of having friends that waltz into his room like they own the place.

“What?” Kenma’s eyes wander over your soaked jumper and jeans, frowning at the droplets of water that darken the carpet.

You don’t seem to care about that, your eyes are practically sparkling and your cheeks are flushed with colour, presumably from running through a typhoon to get to his house.

“Kenma! Kenma! Look what I found!”

Kenma groans and rolls over, pulling his duvet over his head, this is too much excitement for the morning –afternoon whatever.

“Kenma don’t be like that!” you whine, he hears your wet socks pad across the floor and then you’re yanking down his duvet and grinning at him with flushed cheeks, your face only inches away from his own. Kenma instinctively shies away about you don’t seem to let that phase you in your excitement. You look down at your chest and begin unbuttoning your jumper and Kenma’s mind short circuits

“What are you doing?!”

But before he has much time to panic a small mewl and a set of furry ears materialize from under your collar. “I found him in one of those adoption boxes. Isn’t he just the cutest?!”

The kitten _is_ adorable. A tiny wee calico thing with oddly coloured eyes that stare beadily up at him.

With a touch that is almost revenant Kenma takes the cat from your arms and holds it close to his chest, something inside him melting into a pile of goo as the little thing rubs its face against his neck, a purr starting up like a tiny engine.

You clutch at your cheeks, hearts in your eyes as you whispering the words “so cute” in a breathy voice. Before letting out a squeal that Kenma can only describe as unhuman and pulling out your phone to snap pictures but Kenma bats it away. He hates being in photographs.

He crooks a finger to scratch behind the velvety ears and the purring increases tenfold. He’s having a hard time keeping a straight face.

Your loud clap of delight startles both of them, Kenma can feel the little thing freeze against his chest.

“I knew you would like her! You have that face on.”

Kenma frowns, lips pulling down at the corners in his annoyance. “What face?”

But you’re already running around to the other side of his bed, pulling back the cover and inviting yourself in and it takes a while for you to answer “Oh you know, your ‘sqweeee!’ face, the one you have when you’re happy about something.”

Kenma wrinkles his nose both at your words and at the now wet patch on his bed. “Get out, you’re making everything cold.” - _and my heart palpitate,_ but he keeps that part to himself.

“But _I’m_ cold,” you whine, lips pulled into a pout and eyes huge and glistening.

Kenma’s whole face scrunches up like someone forced lemon juice down his throat and you quickly back down. Throwing the covers off and huffing about how it was _all just so unfair! You Meany!_

Kenma sighs internally, why oh why does he have such exhausting friends? You’re almost as bad as Lev.

“I’m using your clothes Kenma, because you’re so mean!”

Kenma curls up on his side, the little buddle of fur tucked safely in his arms and doesn’t bother replying. He can hear you banging open his drawers and ruffling through his things but he doesn’t really care. Apart from the dating sim game there’s nothing he doesn’t want you seeing. And he’s hidden _that_ deep in the back of his closet where you –and hopefully no one else- will ever find it.

There’s the sound of a zipper and your clothes hitting the floor and Kenma tucks himself further into his blanket to hide his reddening cheeks. Desperately trying to keep his mind away from images of you half naked. But it’s like being told ‘don’t think of a black dog’ and he can’t help it when a few slip through and make his palms sweaty and his breath catch.

The bed jolts under your weight and a gust of cold air announces your return. Kenma opens one eye and watches as you arrange a weird nest thing with his remaining pillows, tucking his blankets under your body to trap the heat and bringing the edge up under your chin. It’s only after your elaborate re-positioning that you seem to decide you’re too far away from him and shuffle closer before starting the whole process again. It almost makes him snort in laughter.

You’ve always had the worst sense of personal space but for some reason it doesn’t make him anxious like it does with most other people. And when everything is in place and your toes are touching his own Kenma can’t help but get lost in the feint patterns in your irises, the ones he can only see when you’re this close together. The silence only lasts for a moment before you inevitably break it.

“Ne ne Kenma, are you gonna keep her?”

“Yes.”

“What are you going to call her?”

“………………Apple-pie.”

You face palm so hard it looks like it hurts “Why is it apple-pie for everything?!”

“I like apple-pie….”

“You can’t call a cat apple-pie Kenma! Geez.”

You sound incredulous but you’re smiling that full blown megawatt grin that makes his knees shaky and it takes a while for him to reply

“…..What would you name it?”

Your eyebrows scrunch up in the most adorable fashion, tongue peeking out from the corner of your mouth. Kenma can’t help but stare at the little pink thing until he jolts out of his fantasies and his ears flame red in mortification. You don’t even notice.

“Tubbs? Hmmm erm ah ah oh! Doramon! No wait, um Zelda?”

“Zelda is fine.”

“Oh really? Cool! Zelda-kitty-chan!”

“No….just Zelda.”

“Oh okay then Just-Zelda.”

Kenma’s sigh holds all the suffering in the world. “You’ve been hanging around Kuroo too much.”

You laugh and he swears it’s like the sun on a clear day. You’re an idiot and naïve and way too cheery but you’re _his_ idiot.

You fall asleep quickly, you’ve always had the ability to conk out anywhere and everywhere. Actually he’s kinda envious of it.

Zelda curls up on his chest and he tries to resume his game but his eyes keep wandering back to you, face peaceful in sleep and wrapped up in his covers. As his eyelids grow heavy some part of his brain vows never to let Kuroo hear of this. He’d never stop teasing if he learnt that you had slept in his _bed_.

Right before he is drawn under into his dreams he could have sworn he mumbles something about ‘you don’t need to meet someone else’.

……..But that just could have been his sleep deprived brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Can I just say you guys are all so lovely and every time someone comments I get the biggest dork grin on my face.  
> I'm in my fourth week of Uni and have already cried about stress/assignments twice but hearing your thoughts and seeing the proof that people are reading my work is really getting me through so thank you :)


	17. Secret (Nanase Haruka)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crowd slowly trickles away and now it’s only him and a girl fighting to open her polka-dot umbrella and keep hold of a stack of books. Haru watches her with mild interest as he thinks back to the shoujo manga Makoto had desperately tried to hide under his bed in middle school. This would be the part where the sparkly senpai sweeps in and helps the pretty girl, thus interlocking them in a pseudo relationship of some kind with mutual pining when her ghastly ex spots him holding her umbrella.
> 
> Haru does none of those things because seriously? It just sounds exhausting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hills are alive with the sound of new characters~  
> The six week dip is real, I'm surprised I had time to write this. Just kidding it's the perfect way to procrastinate.
> 
> Here's Haru's intro, I hope you like it :) Again thank you for your wonderful comments and patience, stay tuned for more to come!  
> (Also I have kinda given up on warnings about NSFW content because at this point I think we are all just expecting it...What can I say, the thirst is real and I know why you read these) ;) ;) ;)

Haru has a secret.

And no one, not even Makoto -who still comes over when his workload allows it- can ever know it.

He stares at the plastic dolphin bobbing around his knees, ears perked to the slightest noise.

But the only sound in the cramped bathroom is the hum of the ceiling fan and the gentle lapping of the water against the sides of the tub. Haru tries not to feel disappointed, doesn’t succeed, and then feels guilty about feeling disappointed.

Deciding nothing is going to happen tonight he shuts his eyes and dozes in the luke-warm water, feeling the stress from the day and the tiredness of his muscles slip away as he surrenders himself to its embrace.

He’s almost asleep when the sound of a shower head through the thin walls of his apartment can be heard. Sitting up straighter Haru notices with no small amount of mortification that his heart is already beating faster than it should be when lounging in the bath.

He can’t help it. By now it’s an automatic reaction.

He waits for several tense minutes until the sound of running water stops, more agonizing minutes and then, finally, the tiniest sigh reaches his ears. The sigh becomes a moan and Haru finds his hands tracing down his sides in soft strokes before dipping under the swiftly cooling water to wrap his fingers around his already hardening cock.

 _This_ is his secret.

This is why, after that first night, he always tries to have his baths at the same time. Guiltily hoping that his neighbour will help him in relieving himself.

A louder moan succeeds in bringing him to full arousal and the tiniest of appreciative sounds passes his lips.

He tips his head back and closes his eyes against the bright white ceiling. with the absence of sight he can hear those cute little moans better, can picture his mysterious neighbour with more clarity.

What does she look like? _He can tell it’s a she from the voice_. What’s her name? This is a student complex for his university so she’s sure to be around his age. But who is the girl behind those adorable, erotic groans?

Haru doesn’t know. The mystery girl either leaves too early or too late for him to ever catch a glimpse of her. A string of _yes yes yes!_ that he come to know so well signals his mystery girl is close and Haru quickens his pace to what he imagines hers is. His breath coming heavy in the steam curling from the bath water.

 Beads of sweat sprinkle his upper lip and forehead as he bites down to stifle a low grunt of pleasure, as he rubs his thumb just below the head of his cock. Choosing to ignore the spill of pre-come that dirties his bath water in favour of straining to catch the last of his mystery girls throaty moans and another chorus of _yes yes yes!_  before the small cry that fills his body with heat and has his vision turning white as he comes in spurts under the now cool water.

Haru grimaces and deserts the dirty water quickly. Sitting on his little plastic shower stool and hosing himself down one last time. But it doesn’t clean away the dirty, guilty residue that seems to cling to his skin. This is the part of the evening he hates the most.

Why can’t he be like that group of guys in his swim team that never stop bragging about their weekend conquests with absolutely no morals, as they compare hook-ups or slander the poor girls they meet in loud, obnoxious voices? Even at the thought his nose wrinkles in distaste. There’s no way he ever could be like them. They’re the only people in his new team he genuinely dislikes, but luckily they are in none of his specialties and he doesn’t have to cross their paths much, and anyway they’re always slacking off and more often than not they don’t even turn up to practice. It drives the aging head coach batty.

But still having a conscious and an addictive personality coupled with bad impulse control is a pain in the ass.

Haru towels off and wanders through his tiny three room apartment in search of clothes. Summer in Tokyo is like a sauna so he only pulls on a pair of grey boxers before collapsing onto his futon facing the wall, stoutly refusing to look at the text book on his desk, open on the chapter he’s supposed to be reading. He’ll do it in the morning – _That’s a lie but whatever_ , _he’s only got two more days before midterm break_.

The next day classes continue uneventfully, the most exciting thing that happens is someone’s phone goes off and it’s a jazzy anime opening that causes giggles to ripple through the room before everyone’s back to watching the lecturer pace. There’s also the headband wearing girl who tries to corner him into joining the Uni debating team again and she’s all - _maybe we could also get lunch sometime?_ Haru is spared replying when he receives a text from Makoto reminding him that they have visitors coming in a few days.

By the end of classes Haru is fighting sleep and it’s only the fact that he has practice in an hour that keeps him from finding a couch in the pleasantly warm library and dozing off.

When Haru makes it to the Uni’s pool complex he’s dying to jump in and forget about his boring day. He inhales the comforting smell of chlorine and tunes in to the slightly _less_ comforting sound of his elderly coach berating a team member before he spins around and walks as quickly as he can to the changing rooms.

Once there his mood plummets because the group of dude-bros he dislikes is fawning over something on one of their phones. And he doesn’t care for whatever is making their jaws hit the floor.

He strips off as quickly as he can but not quickly enough apparently because one of them glances up at him and motions for him to come over

“Nanase you have got to check out this bird, she’s got tits like you wouldn’t believe!”

Haru gives a flat stare before turning his back and continuing to pull his legs out of his trousers with a stiff back.

The guy clicks his tongue, wearing a surprised, (slightly hurt?) expression.

“All right then suit yourself.”

“You should have known better man, Nanase’s got the libido of a mushroom.”

Haru’s mind unintentionally flickers to the night before when he was wringing his cock to the sounds of his mystery girl’s orgasm but he doesn’t correct them, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even turn around when the others chuckle. Because A. He doesn’t care what they think of him and B. it’s probably best to keep his perverted habit to himself…

Unfortunately the first guy isn’t finished “So Nanase do you just not like girls? Oh! Maybe its guys?”

“Idiot he could be um, you know unsexual!”

“It’s asexual genius.”

Haru closes his eyes and begs for the sweet release of death. He’s sure his old teammates never talked this much.

...Or maybe they did but he was just used to tuning out the unimportant bits, like, what kind of bread Nagisa had for lunch or, the new cat Makoto had seen on his way to the shops.

Thinking about his old team sends a painful jolt through his chest.

He’s been here for two months and though he and Makoto still get together, He skypes Rin, and Nagisa and Rei bombard him with calls he’s….lonely.

Nothings the same and he feels isolated in his classes where there’s no history with anyone and no friendly faces.

Haru shakes his head of these thoughts and stuff his bag with his clothes, not caring that it’s going to make his shirt all crumpled, he just needs to feel the water. If he just feels the water he’ll be fine.

He all but flees the changing room, and when he’s close enough to the edge of the pool he dives into a free lane without hesitation. Immediately feeling calmed by the near silence under the water.

But he can’t muck around for long. His coach notices him and has him back out on the side performing boring warm up stretches that numb his brain and give him far too long to dwell.

And shit, because the guys from the changing room are joining him, but luckily they seem more intent on teasing one of their own than badgering him with invasive questions.

“Seriously just tell us! What’s she like?”

“She’s in my study group and she’s really smart, her laugh is so-“

“Who cares about that what she look like?”

Haru snorts to himself, this is a conversation he would rather skip, luckily his coach deems him stretched enough and he can escape back into the water.

His mood when he leaves the complex is better than it has been in days, his body had felt at one with the water and his advanced training regime no longer feels like he’s being dragged backwards through hell.

The rain starts as he rides his usual train two stops to his apartment complex. He watches the world grow dark as sheets of the stuff pelt the unlucky people stuck with only the meager shelter of their umbrellas. The doors open and a calm female voice tells him it’s his stop so he rises with several other commuters and disembarks, ignoring the shoulders that jostle him on the way out and the rain that dampens his head.

The crowd slowly trickles away and now it’s only him and a girl fighting to open her polka-dot umbrella and keep hold of a stack of books. Haru watches her with mild interest as he thinks back to the shoujo manga Makoto had desperately tried to hide under his bed in middle school. This would be the part where the sparkly senpai sweeps in and helps the pretty girl, thus interlocking them in a pseudo relationship of some kind with mutual pining when her ghastly ex spots him holding her umbrella.

Haru does none of those things because seriously? It just sounds exhausting.

The girl manages it anyway and sets off in the direction of his apartment block so Haru has no choice but to follow her.

The girl must hear it when his shoe scuffs the pavement because she starts and looks over her shoulder, that weird smile people give to strangers they pass slipping easily across her features before she turns back around.

She turns into a side street and Haru follows, frowning when the girl glances back over her shoulder and speeds up to but more distance between them. Ouch, that kinda hurts. He can’t help it if this girl is walking the same way he has to. He tries not to let the nervous expression she had on her face offend him. _She_ doesn’t know he’s not some mass murderer.

When he’s in sight of his complex he almost lets slip a sigh, good, now he can leave her be and she won’t think he’s a creeper anymore.

Unfortunately that’s not quite how it goes because she walks up to the lift shaking out her umbrella. Haru deliberates his options. He can get on the elevator too and risk scaring her further _or_ he can wait for the elevator to drop her off and then come back down for him.

He goes with the first option because there is no way he’s waiting for the rickety thing to snail its way back down while he waits in the rain.

The girl stands as far away from him as she can, observing him with wary eyes. He should probably say something, anything. _Nice weather we’re having_? Is the only thing he can think of and it doesn’t really apply….

The doors close with a muffled ding and the girl speaks “You live here? I don’t think I’ve meet you before…”

Haru’s eyes flick to the side, noting the way the girls hand is gripping her umbrella like a sword and nods once.

“Oh.” the hand lessens its fist slightly and he’s momentarily blinded by a smile so sweet it’s likely it’ll induce cavities. “Okay what floor?”

“Eighth.”

The girl punches in the number and there’re off, that is, until the elevator grinds to a halt with a hair raising screech.

There’s a second where Haru can see the shocked face of the girl before the light flickers out and they are plunged into darkness.

“Fuck.” There’s a bang which he presumes is a fist against the door and then a muffled sob. " _Fuck!”_

“Don’t panic.”

“Thanks that helps a lot, write a book why don’t you?”

Haru’s at a loss for words as the girl starts banging on the door insistently, yelling loud enough to wake the whole neighbourhood in between dry sobs.

“Help! Get us out! Help please!”

Haru nervously clutches his bag straps as the whole thing starts shaking under the girl’s fist “Hey, stop it.”

“Someone! Please is someone there! Hel-“

“Stop it!” Haru grabs out and catches a handful of clothing, pulling the girl away from the door, surprised at his strong reaction.

His eyes are finally growing accustom to the dark and with the small amount of light bleeding through the crack in the doors he can see her shaking profile. _Oh god, channel Makoto, kind and caring._

“Stop crying.” _perfect._

A coughing laugh cuts through those wince inducing sobs. “You’re not very good at this are you?”

“Not really.” Haru stares as she breaks out into muffled giggles. He’s so lost, girls – _people_ have never made much sense to him.

A light flares up as the girl takes out her phone and all at once Haru feels immensely stupid that he didn’t think of that earlier. He watches in silence as she punches in a number, face flooding with relief when the person on the other end picks up on the second ring.

“Landlord, the elevators not working and me and um-“

“Haru.”

“-Haru are stuck inside…..yes….okay…..right thank you.”

 

You breathe a sigh of relief when you hear your landlord assure you that this has happened before and it will only take 10 minutes at most to sort it out. Content to just wait it out with this odd guy now that your wave of anxiety seems to have passed as quickly as it came.

“Um so he said he’d get us out soon….”

The dark haired boy just shrugs, as seemingly unaffected as he has been for the entirety of this less than stellar end to the day. You rock on your toes before decided you don’t care about appearances and curl up on the floor, your back to the wall. Trying to surreptitiously wipe your runny nose on the sleeve of your jacket.

The weird boy – _Haru_ watches you with a blank expression before gingerly settling down beside you -as far away as the confined space will allow.

….you try not to read too much into that.

He really is a startling attractive guy, dark hair that falls into his eyes and high features that create a mesmerizing chiaroscuro effect in the scant light from both of your phones.  It makes your hands itch to grab your oil paints.

In the feint blue/white light from your screen you can’t tell what colour they are –his eyes- and you wish you could see them but he has a seriousness in his expression that makes you both curious and nervous to be sitting beside him. Your heart beating abnormally fast and your palms slightly sweaty. You worry at your lower lip and twirl your favourite sketching pencil round and around your fingers. A nervous habit you’ve picked up from sitting exams.

‘So um Haru, what’s your last name? Haru is your first name right? And I don’t think I know you well enough for it to be polite for me to call you that so…”

Wow you’re rambling, great.

The serious, pale face turns towards you, throwing one side of his face into relief. “Nanase.”

“Nanase-san.” You nod “Okay that makes me feel better.”

You look down at your knees unnerved by Nanase’s strong gaze but he doesn’t turn away. You can feel his eyes on your profile and it makes you shiver, drawing your still damp jacket closer to your body.

Silence. You glance to the side, thankful to find that that piercing gaze has moved to the far wall. Nanase doesn’t seem to mind it, content to sit on the floor in the near dark in quiwt. You reckon it would take a lot to ruffle his feathers.

His eyes meet yours before you can turn away and you drop your pencil with a start, winching as it rattles across the floor. You lean forwards to snatch it up, grateful for the semi-darkness masking your embarrassed flush when your forehead collides against something _-hard_. Pain lances through you as you clutch at your head. “Ow fuck!”

You squint through watery eyes at the blurry figure of Nanase, noting his concerned expression and the hand holding out your pencil. “Sorry, I was trying to help…”

It’s then that the lights splutter back on, startling the both of you. And you discover that the boy sitting in front of you has the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen. Even in the shitty yellow light from the elevator the cool blue seems bottomless, seems to drag you out on a strong current like a treacherous sea, makes you lose your breath like small ocean critters abandoned by the waves on the tide shore. You could get lost in eyes like that, you could drown in eyes like that.

Haru’s gaze flickers to the side as if he is uncomfortable with your scrutiny and rubs at his jaw, which is red from (you suppose) it’s impact with your head

The lift whirrs to life and the both of you awkwardly get to your feet. You snatch the pencil from his still outstretched hand and tuck it into your bag where it can’t do anymore damage. The rest of the ride to the top is a silent affair. But you are starting to realise that this is this strange, beautiful boy’s default and don’t try to break it with any more small talk.

 

The doors slide open at his floor and Haru steps out, shivering in the cold damp air of the balcony. Behind him he can hear the shuffling of clothes that signals the girl has also exited that creaky old thing. She takes a quiet breath before muttering in a begrudging voice.

“Sorry about breaking down back there.”

Haru doesn’t bother answering, just turns to watch as the pretty girl – _when did he start thinking that she was pretty?-_ rummages around in her bag till she detects the jingle of keys.

“Goodnight Nanase-san.”

Haru’s eyes widen as the pretty girl gives him a small smile that makes him feel all kinds of strange _and then unlocks the door to the right of his own._

Haru doesn’t move, his lungs don’t seem to be working, his brain feels like it’s about to explode and his heart is thumping painfully loud in his chest.

This –you…He knows who his mystery girl is! It’s this cute girl with the soft smile who swears ever other sentence. Haru jolts out of his stupor and unlocks his door with hands that tremble slightly despite his best efforts. _He never asked for your name, he doesn’t know her your._

A glance at the tag beside her door tells him it is [Name] and Haru can’t hear anything through the rushing in his ears. His heart still pounding that relentless rhythm in his veins.

He can’t seem to do anything right after that.

His mind is so preoccupied he manages to burn his mackerel, read the same sentence in his text book twenty times without taking anything in, and get halfway through his dishes before he realises he’s not using any dishwashing liquid.

With a racing heart he glances at the clock -8:45- and places the last clean bowl in the cupboard before making his way to the bathroom as fast as he can without actually, you know _running_.

He strips off and tries to cool down somewhat by sitting under the water from the showerhead, rubbing soap over his arms and chest with impatient hands. His body is taunt and anxious. He feels like he’s stretched on a wire until _ah there it is-_ that breathless moan that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stick up and his skin prickle. He’s suddenly hyper aware of his whole body and the flow of blood to places that awaken to the sounds of those groans.

Haru rinses off the suds, almost tripping over his little plastic stool in his haste to get into the bath. The hard plastic clatters across the floor and for a second Haru is worried [Name]-san will hear, will know exactly what he’s doing. But he only has to wait for five seconds in the settling water before another muffled moan reaches his ears. He tips his head against the cold porcelain side of the bath, closing his eyes so he can hear better.

He can feel the heat rising to the surface of his skin in a pink flush that starts from his cheeks and spreads down his chest. His hands run down the lines of his abdomen but falter when they reach the V that leads to his achingly hard cock. A wave of guilt rushes through him, turning his belly into a pit of twisting snakes. Haru’s eyes open to stare at the ceiling and he cocks his head to the side. Huh, that’s new… He’s never felt it this strongly before. His hands begin to fall at his side but a moan –loud, wanton and utterly sexy has his fingers grasping around his cock before he can even begin to think up moral questions.

“ _Yes yes yes!”_

Ah god, he'll never grow tired of that.

Now he has a visual to work with and goddammit if it doesn’t make him come that much harder.

And afterwards when he’s trying to sleep despite the cloying heat he thinks back to the elevator and the moment when he couldn’t help but stare at her profile in the semi-darkness, or the stutter of his heart when she had smiled at him and think -fuck. I’m too lazy for this shoujo shit. He’s not gonna be all ' _what is this feeling in my chest?'_ Because he knows a crush when he sees one.

His first had been on his 32 year old swimming coach in Primary and to this day he has no idea why. After that it had been the lady who worked at the library so he _knows_ that crushes don’t always make sense. Why not have a crush on the girl-you-secretly-jerk-off-to-every-other-night-in-the-bath-while-she-finger-bangs-herself?

Okay no that does sound pretty weird….

 Now that he’s spelled it out like that….

Huh….

Yeah he’s never telling Makoto about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like imagining that Haru has super dry humor so that's why this turned out like it is. I think it fits his character but sorry if you think it is OOC.
> 
> I got more goodies waiting in the wings that I have to edit, but when I finish expect to see some long awaited chapters like Yamababy's date and more Tsukki trash.  
> Till next time!


	18. Festival shenanigans (Yamaguchi Tadashi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamaguchi's swallow is painful as suddenly all of the shadowy hideaways throughout the festival ground seem appealing. Behind the dango booth? The nearby grassy hill? Behind the public toilets? His ashamed at how quickly his mind comes up with scenarios. But it seems you’re on the same page as him because all of a sudden he’s being lead to the nearby park and the crowds are thinning.
> 
> “Um…”
> 
> “Let’s have some fun Yama-chan.~”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE!!!!!!!!! After months of shitty Uni essays I finally found time to write this before exams kick in, thank you so much for your patients and kind words :)
> 
> So without further ado he is Yama-chan's date!!!  
> P.s I am so sorry for this filth. Also if you like my stuff here you should deffs check out 'A study in depravity' by SabbyWrites, that stuff will keep you awake at night yall.

Yamaguchi grimaces at his reflection and wipes his sweaty hands on his yukata. Not for the first time does he wish he was less lanky, less awkward looking, had less freckles….

His yukata is striped grey, the hem ending mid-calf because of how much he grew in his last year of middle school, the dull green obi is in need of tightening on his skinny frame, but he’s still gotta drag up the courage to ask his mother to help him out. He’s going to look ridicules standing next to you in his too short yukata. Everyone wondering what the hell this scrawny kid is doing with one of the most sort after upperclassmen at his school.

An ugly thought enters his head. What if you don’t even wear a yukata? Oh god he’s gonna look so stupid, everyone in the area goes to the summer festival. He tries to think back to previous years, do guys wear yukata to these things now days?

Oh god oh god he can’t do this. He raises his hands to pull at the sloppily tied knot, his mind hurriedly evaluating his wardrobe when the doorbell goes off. Shit. All at once Yamaguchi’s legs feel like jelly. He runs his hands through his hair one more time, frowning at the little bit that never seems to lie flat, before turning from the slightly sickly looking boy in the mirror and running down the stair two at a time. His hand closes around the doorknob, his fingers crossed behind his back and he prays to any deity that might be listening.

_Please be wearing a yukata, please be-_

You’re not wearing one.

Yamaguchi wants to crawl away and die, his face is burning with mortification.

“Hi there.” You grin and put a hand on your hip, lifting your fitted tank up to show a sliver of your stomach to which he flushes then quickly looks away.

“H-hi” Yamaguchi chokes on the words, squirming as your eyes rake up and down his frame, a hint of a smile playing about your lips.

“Cute yukata, maybe I should have worn mine.”

“Right…well I’m just going to go change-”

You grab his hand with a laugh, pulling him down so you can place a quick kiss on his cheek. “No no, you’re not allowed, I just told you it's cute.”

Yamaguchi’s cheek tingles where your lips had been moments before, he can still feel it when you push him back inside exclaiming, “But I’m gonna fix this godawful obi.”

His mother’s eyes widen fractionally from where she stands beside the sink, but she says nothing besides the appropriate greetings to which you reply with easy confidence. Yamaguchi feels a tug on his sleeve in the direction of the hallway. He understands.

“[Name]-senpai is just going to help me with this.” Yamaguchi gives a non-committal hand gesture not sure if he’s making any sense. “And then we’ll get going, is that okay?”

His mother looks wary but nods her assent so Yamaguchi leads you down the hall to his cramped bedroom, squirming uncomfortably when he notices that he’s left the pile of washing on his floor. He glances back at you, cringing when he notices your eyes linger on the washing, the whiteboard scrawled with his daily affirmations and the embarrassing row of childhood teddies on the top of his bookshelf.

But you say nothing about them and motion for him to stand in front of the mirror so he does, feeling weirdly nervous under your gaze as you make quick work of fixing his shoddy knot. While you walk around him to check if it’s all folded nicely he finally notices what you are wearing beyond the fact that you are quite obviously not wearing a yukata.

Tight shorts that immediately draw his eyes up your long legs to your butt and a simple tank top, it’s all so ordinary and it shouldn’t make him feel hot all over but it does. He wonders if he’s always been so hopeless or is it just since you agreed to date him.

“Ready to go?”

Yamaguchi nods, heart clenching painfully when you smile and press a kiss to his shoulder like an afterthought, it’s the only place you can reach even in your heeled sandals.

The journey from his room and down into the centre of town is a blur of assuring his mother, feeling embarrassed that he had to do it in front of you, wishing you could hold hands, realising he doesn’t have the confidence to initiate it, feeling more embarrassment….

“So what do you want to do?”

“Um just walk around and play games and…eat food?” He doesn’t know why it sounds like a question. All of a sudden he feels stupid for asking you here, to this family-friendly festival. He should have asked if you wanted to mooch around the skate park tagging things or……something…..cool. He actually has no idea what you do for fun besides clubbing and there is no way in hell that he will pass for overage. In fact, he doesn’t even know if people hang around skate parks like they do in some of the music videos he’s watched….

You make a noise of assent, blind to the image of punks and cool looking delinquents lounging around on their skateboards in his mind - _because even Yamaguchi knows they never actually ride them._ Maybe he should get a tattoo? _That_ might make him more your type. But his mum would hate it…..

His train of thought is broken by your exclamation of delight; you’ve finally arrived at the festival grounds. It’s a pretty picture, the strings of red and gold lanterns crisscrossing above the lines of crowded stalls, the smell of sizzling food mixed with the sounds of children laughing, a local band is playing in the centre of the happy mess and the tinny music from game stalls rises above the happy cacophony.

Your chin tilts upwards, your eyebrows raised in question, with what he hopes is an excited smile. “What’s your _favourite_ thing to do?”

“Eat…”

You grin, clapping him on the back so hard it makes his knees buckle. “That suits me just fine, lets grab some stuff.”

You make to stride off into the grounds in the direction of a dango stall but an arm on your shoulder stops you.

“Wait! Um, can we hold hands? I…. don’t wanna lose you in the crowd.” He’s seen that line in a shoujo manga before, he had no idea it would sound so stupid out loud... He breathes a sigh when you take his hand in yours and resume making your way over to the stall pulling him behind you. After the dango is a toy rifle game; neither of you win anything, you because your aim is subpar and him because he’s too nervous with you watching. Then it’s ice-cream, then watching the taiko performance. He’s having fun and he hopes you are too; he often catches you staring at him with a bemused smile but he’s not sure what to make of it just yet. He hopes it’s a good thing. He spies the big buckets of water surrounded by small children and their tired parents.

“Shall we try goldfish scooping?”

Your eyes follow his pointed finger and you shrug with pursed lips that might be hiding a smirk.

“Huh okay, I’m still waiting for the moment you try to jump me behind a tree in that yuka-“

“I’m not going to jump you!” Yamaguchi’s voice cracks into a wobbly falsetto on the last word _-much too loudly-_ and the poor mother in front of them gives them a filthy look, nudging her little girl further into the crowd surrounding the goldfish stall.

You crack up at his reaction, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. He’s embarrassed at the ease with which you tease him, he wonders if it shouldn’t affect him as much as it does. He wonders if you will get tired of him once the whole ‘corrupting the awkward, skinny kid’ gets old.

Your smile grows softer and you lace your hand back in his without prompting this time causing his heart to flip flop in his chest. A breath against the shell of his makes him shiver and his stomach clench. “Well _I_ can’t promise I won’t jump you in this sexy thing.”

Yamaguchi's swallow is painful as suddenly all of the shadowy hideaways throughout the festival ground seem appealing. Behind the dango booth? The nearby grassy hill? Behind the public toilets? His ashamed at how quickly his mind comes up with scenarios. But it seems you’re on the same page as him because all of a sudden he’s being lead to the nearby park and the crowds are thinning.

“Um…”

“Let’s have some fun Yama-chan.~”

You stand by the park fountain head darting from side to side before tugging him over to a small depression off the deserted gravel path. Yamaguchi’s heart rate spikes in his veins and as if in a trance he follows you, near tripping over his too large feet in his haste to comply.

You pull Yamaguchi down with you onto the ground, he goes easily enough, with an eager, nervous look you’re beginning to recognise as arousal. A quick glance back towards the path assures you that the small line of bushes and the slope of the ground renders the both of you invisible to any would be passers-by.

You smile, the one that gets you what you want, and reach out to rest your hands on Yamaguchi’s shoulders, inwardly purring as the heat in his cheeks spills from under his freckles down his neck, disappearing below the fold of his yukata in such a way that your fingers itch to peel it back and discover just how far it goes…

“What do you want to do?”

 Yamaguchi’s voice shakes slightly and it pulls you from your lewd train of thought.

“Nothing, if you don’t want to….?”

Yamaguchi’s head shakes, the pink on his cheeks flaring up slightly “I trust you and... I want to.”

You drag one finger up under his chin to tilt his head upwards, exposing the long line of his neck. You watch his throat bob, whatever he says he’s nervous. Maybe it’s the location or simply because this is still so new to him. So you take it slowly, pressing a soft kiss to the base of his neck, then upwards, sucking harder when you reach a spot that makes his hands spasm where they have come to rest on your waist. You scrap your teeth against the same spot, checking and re-checking that he is shivering from heightened feeling and not any kind of doubt. When you reach his jaw you find that his eyes are closed shut, his mouth parted slightly as his breath shudders past his teeth. It’s adorable.

He hums happily when you press your lips to his, wasting no time before he’s pulling your bottom lip into his mouth and biting softly. You feel a little proud at the ease with which his hands trace circles on your back and reach down to squeeze your hips - _still not quite brave enough to venture near your ass._ You have no such qualms and Yamaguchi’s surprised squawk against your mouth can’t help but make you laugh.

Yamaguchi’s matching smile makes you feel better, sometimes you forget that your stronger personality can trample over others. It’s also a weirdly nice feeling when you see the evidence plain in his face and his body that there is nowhere he would rather be right now.

“Can I touch you?” Yamaguchi’s eyes widen, his hand, long fingered and warm takes yours and brings it to his half hard arousal in way of his reply.

It’s nothing you haven’t done before, getting frisky with a guy on the first date, but for some reason it doesn’t seem as…. cheap? as some of your other escapades. Maybe it’s the way Yamaguchi sucks in his breath through his teeth when you shuffle his boxers down his long legs, inwardly leering at the trails of tiny freckles on the pale skin of his inner thighs.

Maybe it feels sweeter because of the little mumbled _[Name]-senpai_ when you take him into your hand, and pump experimentally. It could be the way his back stiffens when you bring him to full hardness, leaning forwards to rest his chin on your shoulder. His voice is breathless against your neck. “I want to touch you too”

You hesitate for a second, not because you have anything against him touching you, but because well…..you’re not sure if he could actually get you off. You’re very aware that Yamaguchi doesn’t have much experience -if any- in that department. But what the hell it can’t hurt.

You sit up so you are kneeling in front of him and push your shorts and panties down your legs so they are out of the way. Yamaguchi’s cock jumps at the sight, a pearly bead of precome threatening to spill off the reddened tip, and your ego purrs in response.

“Well what are you waiting for?”

It cute to watch him flounder. You’re quickly realising you have a sadistic side as you watch his throat bob and his shaking hand uncurl at his side to reach towards your dripping core. His fingers shake as they pry apart your folds and you hiss at the feeling of cold air on your exposed cunt.

“W-what do I do?”

The hand not gripping his cock, joins his between your thighs. The smile is evident in your voice “Touch me here.”

Yamaguchi’s eyes widen, seemingly mesmerised by the sight of your finger rubbing slow circles on your clit. When he can’t take it anymore his finger nudges yours out of the way and resumes rubbing slow circles in its place. It’s not hard or fast enough to get you off but you don’t care.

You tighten your grip on his cock, smiling indulgently when the finger on your clit stutters, a small helpless whine rising in his throat. Yamaguchi’s head falls forward onto your chest, where he surprises you by pressing sloppy kisses there, following the line of your tank top as you tease him further and further towards release.

Your free hand threads through the hair at the back of his head, tugging him up to feel those lips against your own, enjoying the slide of his tongue against yours. Your hand tightens, pulling sideways to expose his neck, still red in places from your earlier kisses. Yamaguchi doesn’t see it coming when you sink your teeth into the exposed flesh but when he feels it his hand spasms against your pussy and then falls away to grip your other hip, a groan of choked pleasure spilling from his parted lips.

“Oh? You like that?”

Yamauchi’s silence is more telling than any words might be, his hand clenching tighter at your side and your face splits into a cat-like grin as you discover something you have been suspecting for a time now - _Yamaguchi is a bit of a masochist_.

You lap at the quickly bruising skin, attempting to sooth the sting before moving on, hand coaxing moans with each flick of your wrist, and teeth scraping against his skin, painting purpling marks that contrast with the pale white scattered with those adorable freckles; less here than on his cheeks but still there in darling patterns. 

“[Na-Name]-Ssenpai I can’t-“

Yamaguchi’s voice cracks into a strangled cry before he claps a hand over his gaping mouth, eyes squeezed tight and tears forming at the outer corners as he arches his back.

A vicious kind of pleasure rips through your body at the power you have over this panting, writhing boy. It’s heady and animal and you’ve never felt quite like this with anyone before. His blinding trust and good-natured expression brings out some dark part of your personality you’ve never before explored. - _The part that wants to tease till he’s a wreck of over stimulation._

The hand gripping his cock loosens and you can’t tell if the small sound that makes it around his hand is in disappointment or relief. You giggle and watch as he tries to put his face back into some semblance of control but it breaks when you place one finger against the leaking, swollen head of his dick and rub slow, deliberate circles that makes the muscles in his leg twitch.

Your voice is breathy with excitement “Yama-chan~, such a good boy.”

Now that his eyes are open and he’s leaning back on his hands he can see your expression and you watch as his eyes grow large in his face. _Oops, maybe you should tone down the whole dom thing you got going on_. But it doesn’t seem to put him off, if the wave of milky precome trickling onto his abdomen is any indication.

Your nail digs slightly into the slit and all the air leaves Yamaguchi’s lungs in a long groan. Your other hand joins the first, teasing his balls and sneaking glancing touches in the space between them and his asshole. The reaction is immediate, Yamaguchi starts thrashing against the grass, thrusting his hips forward in an attempt to send himself over; little, helpless cries piercing the night air and driving you crazy.

“Good boy,” you croon, hand tightening on his twitching cock, delaying the release he wants so desperately. Yamaguchi yelps, his fingers ripping out handfuls of grass at his sides. You wonder why he hasn’t snapped and pushed you away to finish himself off -he’s larger and stronger than you.

“Please I- Ah! wanna c-come.” Your eyes widen at the amount of control he’s still giving you, at the spill of wetness that stains your panties at his voice; choked and gasping. The tender, protective feelings that his shallow breaths and tear tracks excite. It’s a heady mess you could get used to.

You smooth back the hair sticking to his forehead and press a kiss there. Smiling warmly when his eyelids flicker back open, pupils blown wide till only the faintest sliver of brown can be seen around the edges. “[N-Name]-senpai I-“

“Shh it’s okay, I got you.”

Yamaguchi’s eyelids flicker like he’s trying to bring you into focus, eyes misty and body shivering.

“K-kiss me please.” His voice is husky from overuse as he tips his head back, lips desperately seeking yours.

“Off course baby you’ve done so well.” It’s something out of a porno but Yamaguchi glows under the praise, a happy little smile lighting up his face. You’re fully prepared for a spill of tongues but Yamaguchi seems intent on constantly surprising you. The kiss is sweet and tender, broken by occasional harassed groans when your hand ghosts down to his balls or up to rub against his swollen glands. You quicken your hand, smiling when he breaks the kiss to whisper your name over and over with building passion.

Yamaguchi gives one last, drawn out whimper and then he’s coming hard across his stomach, eyes shut tight against the overwhelming sensation. You inwardly preen as all the strength in his body fails him and he falls onto his back in the damp grass; his yukata pushed up to his belly so that his spent cock is visible against his thigh. It’s a pretty picture of debauchedness.

You watch amusedly as he sucks in large breaths to try and compose himself, wiping the hand covered in spunk on the grass and shimmying your underwear and shorts back into place. When he manages to peel his eyes open he gives you a wobbly, sated smile. “That was amazing.”

His voice is horse from moaning and your heart clenches painfully because you can see the depth of his affection for you in his tired eyes and his happy flushed face. What are you supposed to do with this much adoration? It’s terrifying. What a stupid, naïve, adorable, little boy to give his heart so openly and honestly. It’s sad because you know the real world will kill him, it’s a wonder it hasn’t already.

You brush your hair away from your face and stand up “Let’s go before somebody sees.”

Yamaguchi seems to sense your falling mood, a small wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. “Oh, okay.”

You watch with pinched lips as he scrambles to his feet, tugging his yukata back into place. You turn and start walking back to the lights and sounds of the festival without helping him. Trying not to wince when Yamaguchi breaks into an awkward jog to catch up to you, slipping his hand into yours with a sweet little smile that’s only half insecurity.

You want to pull away and shake him. Doesn’t he know how this game works? The strategic withholding of affection, brazen laughs and wandering eyes. Doesn’t he know this is how you get hurt?

“Is it because I didn't get you.....Do you regret…before?”

On the way home Yamaguchi’s question breaks the silence. His voice is small and unsure to match his clammy hands. A quick look out of the corner of your eye shows a boy on the verge of heartbreak. Shoulders caved inwards and face downtrodden. You imagine you can see a tail between his legs. You feel guilty for putting him through this and irresponsible for allowing things to get so out of hand.

“I don’t, it’s just I didn’t realise how you felt about me…”

Yamaguchi face twists up into a frown, his lips pulling into a pout. It’s almost as if….he doesn’t understand….

“I don’t understand.”

You sigh heavily and run your fingers through your hair “I didn’t realise you liked me so much.”

Yamaguchi gives you a strange look then, as if you’re the novice here, not him. It takes him a while to reply and in that time you lead him down a side street till you are in sight of your empty house. By the time you’ve climbed the porch steps Yamaguchi doesn’t look any less confused.

“Isn’t that why I asked you to come to the festival with me? I want you to be my girlfriend…”

“Look Yama-chan I’ve done this before and trust me likening someone and dating someone are not mutually exclusive. I mean I’ve dated heaps of guys and I’ve never liked any of them and-“

“You’ve never liked anyone you’ve ever dated?” Yamaguchi’s eyebrows are disappearing into his fringe his expression sad, and for some reason you feel the need to justify your actions.

“No! I mean, they were alright guys and all but I never, you know, grew to _love_ them or anything and I’m worried that you-“

“I’ll make you fall in love with me. I’ll be the first.”

Your breath catches mid rant and your eyes zoom back to Yamaguchi’s blushing face. His hands are clenched at his sides in an attempt to hide their tremor but his gaze doesn’t waver.

“I’m going to treasure you, so you don’t have to be scared to love me.” Such a declaration would have made you scoff not long ago but you can tell from his set expression that he is deadly serious. It’s actually kind of awe inspiring.

“I…..Okay.”

Yamaguchi’s face lights up at your words, smile holding all the warmth of a lovingly tendered fire. You make to unlock your door but a long fingered hand pulls you back, the fire is still there but it’s different kind of heat, hot enough that one stray sparks will set a blaze.

“Can I kiss you?”

You laugh softly, getting caught up in his mood in moments, your fingers reaching up to trace along the outline of his bottom lip. Your own lips are pulled into an incredulous half smile. Just what was this boy?

“I don’t think anyone’s asked before,” You muse.

Yamaguchi lowers his head to press your foreheads together his voice gone thin with want.

“Please”

You hum happily at the tinge of nervous desperation in his words and reach your other hand out to cup his cheek.

“Close your eyes.” At your whisper you feel his pulse stutter under your palm. His gaze flickers to your lips and he swallows before his eyelids dutifully flutter closed. In the silent anticipation you press one soft lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth before pulling away, smiling when he tries to follow your lips with a barely audible whimper.

“I’m not good at this, but if you want to make me fall for you, well, you’re welcome to try.”

You drop another fleeting kiss to the other side of his mouth before just barely hovering over his waiting lips, words whispered like a secret “If you think you can.”

Something snaps inside Yamaguchi and his hands come up to grasp fistfuls of your hair to keep you close, slanting his mouth across yours with a desperate hunger he feels through his whole body, gnawing at his bones and setting fire to his skin. Your muffled, pleased grunt encourages him further so he licks into your mouth, eyes still screwed shut and brow furrowed as his mind reels back against the onslaught of sensation. Your hand scrabbling for purchase on his upper arms, the rough cotton of his yukata brushing against the sensitive skin of his thighs, the warmth of your tongue sliding against his. The small ‘Yama-chan’ you breathe against his lips when he pulls back for a second to gulp in air. He’s drowning in your touch and the feel of your body against his and he never, ever wants to be saved.

The obnoxiously loud tooting of a car horn completely shatters the moment in an instant as a rickety old car hoons past filled with drunk Uni boys, all crowing at your lavish display on the front porch. Yamaguchi loses all his confidence in approximately five seconds, his face lightening up like a beacon as he becomes acutely aware of the way his hands have wandered down your back to grip your hips without his knowing.

“…Um.”

“Night Yama-chan, I had fun today.”

Yamaguchi breathes a sigh of relief as you say nothing about his sudden bout of shyness and instead move your hands up and down his upper arms in an attempt to sooth his frayed nerves.

“Yeah, me too.”

You flash a quick grin and just like that disappear into your house with a wave. Yamaguchi touches his fingers to his lips, still tingling from the force of your kisses and is unable to stop his smile.

He’s still smiling when his mother warily asks him how it went, and when he’s staring at his feet in the shower, and when his head finally hits the pillow.

He's not sure he's ever been this happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live for whiny, praise kink Yamaguchi. That is all.
> 
> It's late and hopefully I caught all my spelling mistakes, as always thanks for reading and if you ever want to discuss themes or future shots just flick me a message!  
> I got a Sousuke shot in the works and some other stuff ticking away like Kags in love so be sure to check back :)


	19. A well deserved break (Yamazaki Sousuke)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’d be quite happy to simply let sleep take you now. Belly full, lulled by the steady thud thud thud of his heart beat and the warmth of his hands on your back. But when Sousuke suggests a bath you can’t help but rush to comply with a happy little smile that’s only a tad suggestive because you are already suspecting foul play, and you’d be lying if the thought doesn’t make your pulse race. It’s been much too long….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am again! For the reader that wanted Sousuke smut all those months ago, here it is :0
> 
> As I always say this is not an informative or educational work, it's purely self fantasy so if you do not like elements that is fine and feel free to message me about them but just keep in mind what I said before.
> 
> With that out of the way enjoy this smut monster!

Sousuke looks up from where he stands by the stove as you call the usual greeting in a tired voice; replying with a smile as he turns back to preparing your favourite dinner with a practiced ease he has acquired after a year of living together. It’s become second nature for the two of you to do little things for each other when one of you is in “hell-week” as you so fondly refer to it.

He can hear you banging around the hallway, and guesses you’re throwing your bag into your shared bedroom. He knows this means he’ll find it in a pile on the floor later but decides to lay off on the chiding just this once purely because you look so worn down.

When you appear back in the kitchen you immediately sag against his back with a disgruntled noise, arms reaching around to clutch at his shirt while he tries to continue cooking around your koala tendencies.

“That bad was it?”

“Why did I sign up for four papers this trimester?”

Sousuke doesn’t reply, simply letting you whine knowing that you don’t actually want an answer or consoling, just a chance to complain.

“I breezed through all of the short answer questions, at least I think I did, but the essay topics we had to choose from where just -agh I don’t even wanna talk about it.”

Sousuke hums his understanding when you run out of steam, flicking off the element and turning to pull you into a hug. Bending down to kiss the top of your head.

Feeling better from your rant you breathe in the smell of his shirt - _his favourite cologne and the smell of cooking food-_ and let yourself relax into his hold. You’ve missed this. For the past few weeks both of you have been cramming and stressed and it hasn’t left either of you much time to be together.

“At least it’s over now.”

Sousuke hums again, giving you one last pat before turning back to the bench and grabbing two bowls from the overhead cupboard.

Dinner is a quiet affair, both of you worn out from exams and content to just watch mindless television together. Brushing arms as you help yourselves to more from the array of your favourite dishes your boyfriend has oh so kindly spoiled you with. It goes a long way for curbing your disgruntled mood and by the time you’re both finished you’re practically in his lap and purring.

You’d be quite happy to simply let sleep take you now. Belly full, lulled by the steady _thud thud thud_ of his heart beat and the warmth of his hands on your back. But when Sousuke suggests a bath you can’t help but rush to comply with a happy little smile that’s only a _tad_ suggestive because you are already suspecting foul play, and you’d be lying if the thought doesn’t make your pulse race. It’s been much too long….

But he doesn’t try anything as the both of you shuck of your clothes and fold them by the bathroom door. You can’t help the way your eyes flick down his body to one particular piece of anatomy, throat and chest tight as you imagine every mouth-watering scenario that can possible cross your mind.

Ah god, he really is just the very definition of ripped. Despite losing his shot at an Olympic dream Sousuke still works out regularly, both in the pool and at the gym, even managing to keep up with it during crunch weeks. The evidence is very clear before you.

He moves ahead of you to sit on one of your little plastic stools, reaching for your peach blossom body wash and the showerhead nozzle; the simple movement brunching the muscles in his back in the most delicious way. You watch water droplets as they follow the dips down his back and press your thighs together as you imagine licking off the ones that cling to his skin; imagine being pushed down, superior strength and weight forcing you to just take it. _Large hands gripping your waist, your thighs, opening yourself up to his touch, his tongue, his cock…_

Sousuke squeezes some of the sweet-smelling stuff onto his palm and begins a lather but not before throwing a raised brow glance over his shoulder that galvanises you into action, cheeks only slightly flushed.

You take your place on you own plastic stool and take the offered showerhead, breathing in the familiar smell of your body wash. When you had first moved in together during second year your friends had been horrified to learn that Sousuke had been using your ‘girly’ bathroom things. It hadn’t particularly occurred to you that he might object to the cherry blossom body wash, the coconut milk shampoo, the lavender bath oil…. Afterward you had worriedly asked him over breakfast if it _did_ bother him, and if so why hadn’t he said anything? Sousuke had simply shrugged, to intent on his food to really bother answering, simply saying “It smells nice, I don’t care” and it had never been brought up again.

Sousuke finishes up much earlier then you and migrates to the bath while you take your time shaving your legs with your tongue between your teeth; knowing that no matter how careful you are you will always find a strip you’ve missed later on _-especially on your knees, why can you never shave your knees properly?_

When you’re finished with that you start to hose yourself down one more time, chancing a glance over to your lover and feeling slightly disgruntled to find that he has his head tipped back and his eyes closed. How boring. You understand that he is tired but come on! Isn’t he just as sexually frustrated as you? You had felt sure he would have tried to start something by now…

From the bath Sousuke hears you click your tongue, and opens one eye to watch you lather in shampoo. He could feel your gaze on him before when you had first entered the bathroom, hurriedly flickering over his back and chest with your lip between your teeth. Subtlety was never really your strong point and besides, he has yet to tell you that you bite your lip whenever you’re thinking naughty thoughts, so he is perfectly aware of what you want from him, and he also knows that you don’t _know_ he knows. And that just makes it all the more enjoyable.

He realises he’s being a little mean but honestly he wants to see how far you will go to get his attention….

_Does that make him a bad person?_

When your head tilts in his direction once more he quickly closes his eye, actively keeping the smirk off his lips so he can appear the picture of serenity and frustrate you further.

Unfortunately, another tongue click has his mouth curling upwards despite his best efforts, and a little gasp which is one part embarrassed and the other part disgruntled lets him know you’ve become wise to his act.

“Asshole.”

Sousuke’s soft ripple of laughter has your ears turning red as you stare at your reflection with pointed indifference. Washing out the conditioner in your hair and making the rest of your body slippery as it passes over you onto the floor. You hiss like an angry cat and reach for more body wash to get rid of the feeling still refusing to look at your bastard boyfriend. Scrubbing in circles with an anger born from embarrassment. But you can’t keep up this act for long, not when you’re absolutely _aching_ to have him hold you close and the irritation melts away like frost before the early morning sun.

Feeling his gaze on your figure you shift slightly in your seat elongating your legs, hands becoming sensual on their journey up your torso. No longer washing but playing with the suds on your skin. You throw a heated glance over your shoulder to find his eyes dark and smouldering, lip and brow cocked just so sending a shiver through your whole body. _That_ makes him grin. Watching as goose bumps settle over your arms, shaking in the nervousness that comes from anticipation. The atmosphere couldn’t be farther from the lethargic haze of earlier and you imagine you can hear your accelerated heart beats in the foggy space between your gazes. Your mouth feels dry as, stomach swirling with quickly pooling arousal, your hands find your breasts, angling yourself towards him with flushed cheeks.

Sousuke’s smile grows wide as you mould the soft flesh between your sudsy fingers. Resting his chin on his hands at the edge of the bath and reclining so he can enjoy the show in comfort. You’re torn between wanting to continue, enjoying the attention and covering yourself with a splutter. Instead you watch his eyes flick between your torso and your face voicing a soft whimper of his name.

Emboldened by the tongue that unconsciously swipes across his bottom lip your fingers find your nipples, already peaked under his gaze and tingling from lack of stimulation. That’s why you can’t help but gasp as the pads of your fingers ghost over them, fully aware of Sousuke’s slightly uncomfortable shift under the water at the sound.

But it’s not enough. You had hoped to tempt him into action by now but he seems perfectly content to watch you play with yourself, eyes burning with intensity. The water gently lapping the sides of the tub and your uneven breathing are the only sounds that can be heard, though you imagine even the neighbours can hear your heart beat as you shuffle your butt to the edge of the stool and slowly widen your legs. If this doesn’t get him out of the damn bath and inside of you, you’re throwing in the metaphorical towel. But you wouldn’t be opposed to throwing a real one, preferably wet, at his face.

But it doesn’t seem that’s necessary, because even you can hear Sousuke’s harsh swallow as he watches your folds unfurling for him, proof of your arousal evident in the way they glisten wetly under the muted bathroom lights.

His gaze follows the path of one hand from between your breasts on it’s slow, drawn out descent past your belly to your core and when you shudder and let slip a small moan his hands twitch under his chin as if he can feel your fingers on his own skin. But still he doesn’t move, not when you rub barely-there circles on your clit, or dip down to enter one, then two fingers inside you.

Your fingers curl and brush against that spot inside your walls that makes you see stars across your vision and your choked groan has him purring, eyes ablaze as his hands leave the cold edge of the tub, disappearing out of your sight.

“Dirty girl.~”

“ _Hnm!_ ”

With the way the muscles in his upper arm are twitching and the sound of water splashing you know he is touching himself, and though the thought of your lover touching himself while watching you sends a thrill down your spine, it’s not what you really want.

“If I’m your dirty girl, why don’t you come and do something about it?”

It’s a last ditch attempt but damn if it doesn’t work. Sousuke grins, water sloshing around his calves as he steps out of the tub and towards you. Cock very obviously hard, drawing your gaze and making you swallow loudly. He’s big even when he’s soft but holy fuck when he’s hard it’s enough to make your core burn at the mere thought of him inside you.

He comes to kneel behind you on the bathroom floor, chest pressed up against your back. Even sitting on your little stool he is tall enough to see over your shoulder. His hands circle around you to your belly then up to trace the slope of your breasts in the act of pseudo-washing, a smile curling his lip at your sharp intake of breath. You’ve always been so sensitive to his touch and he _loves_ being able to hear and see the effects of his ministrations, telling him he’s making you feel good. That he’s taking care of you.

His hands cup your breasts marvelling at their softness still, even after all these years. He tugs gently on your cute nipples, chasing each soft gasp he pulls from you as he runs his rougher hands across your delicate skin. The bubbles gradually fade away but he doesn’t stop. He nuzzles your neck, breathing in the smell of your soap and shampoo, the same ones he uses. Slightly feminine but he doesn’t care because some bizarre primal part of him loves the fact that you smell the same, imagines that others can smell him on you and you on him, _that they can tell that you are his_.

One of your hands reaches back to grip his hair breaking him out of his possessive stream of thought and angling his head so you can slant your mouth across his. He purrs as you lick into his mouth without preamble, wet muscle coaxing him to kiss you deeper, harder. He can’t help but smile into the kiss because you’re obviously in a hurry and that’s his favourite thing. You never beg so sweetly as when you’re in a hurry.

While you’re occupied with his lips his hands follow the natural dip of your waist to your hips, shifting you slightly so that you’re back to facing the mirror head on. Then his hands continue lower, hooking his arms under your knees to spread your legs apart, keeping your pussy wide and wanting. You pull back in shock and a thin trail of saliva stretches between you then breaks apart to splatter against your top lip as you writhe in embarrassment, flushed face staring back at you in the fogged up mirror.

“Sou! What are-?”

“You seemed perfectly fine exposing that tight little cunt before, how’s this any different?”

Your hands hover uncertainly as you deliberate. You know if you really dislike something you can say so, you’ve done it before and you both ended up forgoing any sex in favour of cookies and late night comedy shows. You’re in safe hands and besides, you like it when he’s a little…. _dominant_.

He can see your decision in your eyes and so he kisses up you neck murmuring, “Hold them up, I want you to watch yourself.”

You swallow nodding faintly as your arms replace his, hooking under your knees and opening yourself wider, obediently watching your reflection in the mirror.

“Good girl,” he coos and your entire body tingles from the praise, like it always does. Your eyes follow the journey of his hands from your neck down the slope of your shoulders. He deviates from the path you want them to take, pinching your nipples till they're red and hypersensitive, fondling your thighs, but never quite reaching your exposed pussy. His husky breath against the shell of your ear has your eyelids fluttering at half-mast and your clit red and swollen. “Look how wet you are precious. I haven’t even touched you yet.”

So you do, mouth dry from excitement as you see the truth of his words, bottom lip sucked into your mouth as he runs his fingers along your outer lips, causing you to shiver against his chest, toes curling with anticipation.

“All pretty and pink and so fucking tight, the things I want to do to you.”

You whimper, shying away from his touch and half turning to bury your face in his neck, away from the image of your glistening, twitching pussy.

“Sousuke, It’s embarrassing…”

Finally, finally Sousuke’s finger begins a familiar dance on your clit. He knows exactly what you like, exactly how hard and how fast to go to get your legs to shake. Suspended in the air as they are it’s even more obvious. He’s devious, pinching it slightly just to watch the muscles in your thighs quiver and to hear the breathless little “Oh!” he loves so much. Easing off anytime you get close to make you whine his name and rock back against his fingers desperate for his touch. He feels powerful like this, unstoppable, and he’s glad you like giving him the reigns as much as he likes taking them.

His low laugh of delight has you directing your glare to the spot above your shoulder in the mirror but he pays it no mind, licking the outer shell of your ear and purring words that make your head spin.

“My girl, all mine. My secret sloppy girl, always so ready for my cock.”

“I - _Ah_! I’m not s-sloppy.”

“Oh?” Sousuke’s finger leaves your reddened clit to circle your entrance, sliding two fingers inside to find the spot that makes your breath come fast, thrusting in and out with careful tenderness. You hiss at the stretch as he scissors his fingers, the blatantly wet sound of your arousal making your face heat up. Your eyes meet his in the mirror and he raises his eyebrows as if to say _not sloppy?_

“S-shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

You can feel his hard cock pressing into your lower back, and you get wetter just thinking about it kissing your insides, deeper than anything else you’ve used before. Better than your fingers, better than your toys.

“You’re so beautiful you know that? So goddamn beautiful when you’ve got your legs spread. Fucking yourself on my fingers with this pretty pussy, you gonna let me fuck you tonight sweetheart?”

Your voice is one shade away from desperation as you nod frantically, hips thrusting against his fingers in a shameless display.

“ _Yes_ yes just -Sou, hurry up!”

Sousuke rumbles his understanding, hooking his hands around your waist and manoeuvring your smaller body with ease till he has you where he wants you -Legs either side of his, mirror forgotten and cock pressed up against your belly.

He kisses you as he guides himself inside your frighteningly tight heat, drawing you further into his lap. Watching carefully as you tense up, a muffled groan of pain against his chest reminding him to take it slow. Even with how turned on you are it’s never easy for you when you get started after a break as long as the two of you have had.

He can feel your chest expanding and contracting against him as you suck in air to try and relax your body as you sink down him inch after inch until you finally rest against his thighs, shuddering from the feeling of being so full.

A kiss to your hairline has you tipping your head back. “[Name]?”

Your eyes are unfocused and watery; mouth open in a soft pant. It’s wrong of him to think you look pretty like this, when your still at the softer edge of discomfort but he can’t help it. Your splayed, trembling legs and dazed flush draw attention to your vulnerability. The trust you are placing in him to look after you, to make you feel good, does all kinds of things to him that he knows he’s going to hell for.

He can feel your accelerated heartbeat pulsing through the fluttering walls gripping his cock and runs his hands from the top of your spine to the base as gently as he can, pleasure exploding behind his eyelids when the movement makes you squirm and involuntarily tighten up around him

When you’ve adjusted to his size and the stretch is more of a dull ache then any kind of pain you tighten your hold on his shoulders and slowly lift yourself up on your knees till only the swollen head of his dick rests just inside your entrance.

“[Name]…” It’s not a plea but it’s very close to it. You smile as you bow your head, eyebrows furrowed slightly as you begin to move, finding a rhythm that you like.

A hand on the back of your neck, the other at the small of your back makes you feel safe and small as you rock your hips, taking him down to the hilt each time. Sousuke groans appreciatively, his hands pressing you to him in an attempt to get you closer, _closer._ It’s not enough that his cock is enveloped on each eager thrust by your velvety walls, it’s not enough that your fingers latch on to his skin, that your soft chest is pressed against his. Still he wants more of you, wants to breath the same air. He still doesn’t know what part of you it is that brings out this insatiable longing inside of him, perhaps it is everything.

The familiar sensation of nails digging into his back has his hips thrusting upwards on instinct to meet you as you rock downwards and the added stimulation has your face crumpling, a low moan straining your throat. Your thighs burn as you quicken your pace, desperate to reach your peak. Sousuke’s voice sending tiny shocks down your spine as he whispers breathless praise into your neck, “Look at you, fucking yourself on my cock, such a good girl.”

Sweat beads across your forehead as hot pleasure tightens all the muscles in your lower belly, sparking white everywhere your body meets his, concentrated sharply between your legs as you begin to lose control over the movements of your limbs. 

“Oh _fuck_ Sousuke! Sousuke please I’m so close!”

You nearly sob as your body starts to work against you, thrashing in his arms in an unwanted attempt to pull back from the brink, limbs completely uncooperative to your desires.

“I know baby I know, I got you sweetheart,” Sousuke hushes you, hands migrating to your ass and lips pressing a soothing kiss to your hairline, a moment of sweetness before he slams his hips upwards, knocking the breath from your lungs as he fucks up into you, driving you up so high he almost slips out of your walls before gravity and his strong hands forcefully bring you down till the thick base of his cock flares your entrance.

Your nails scrap red lines across his back and shoulders as you toss your head and cry out every time he hits all the right places inside of you. To his delight they echo of the walls, and the wet sounds of your lovemaking and the slap of skin on skin fill his ears and make him dizzy with how good it feels.

God you’re beautiful like this. Eyes screwed shut against the onslaught of pleasure, flushed and crying out in a kind of frenzied ecstasy, the tantalizing sight of your breasts, nipples peaked, bouncing each time he slams you down around his cock.

His orgasm sneaks up on him as you tighten up and shiver through yours, tears collecting at the corners of your eyes as you find release with a cry of his name. He has to kiss you for that.

Spent you fall forwards, pliant and soft in his arms, body made liquid and eyes sleepy. He likes you best like this. When you latch on to his shoulders and press yourself to his chest. When you whine for kisses and hugs and exist in a state of happy bliss.

He lifts you off his cock but keeps you close, wincing when he feels his come dribble out of you onto his thighs. For now, you’re still hazy but he knows that later he’ll get scolded for not pulling out. But he decides he’ll deal with that bridge when he comes to it and presses scattered kisses to your temples, your eyelids, your chin, all so he can watch you mewl happily and struggle to capture his lips in a proper kiss.

When he feels goose bumps under his hands he detangles himself with a wet sound, ignoring your wordless protest to stand and reach for a towel by the door. It’s one of those ridiculous big, fluffy ones you insisted on getting when the two of you went furniture shopping for the apartment, claiming it was because he was “stupidly huge” and ignoring the fact that he said he was fine with a normal towel. But like with most things around the apartment he had simply shrugged and let you have your way.

He wraps the towel around your shoulders and hooks you under your armpits to sit you back on the bathroom stool where you sway slightly, still existing in a post-sex high.

When things finally swim back into focus you find your boyfriend fiddling with the temperature controls of the shower hose and before you can ask what he’s doing, he’s turning towards you and rinsing off any residue come on your inner thighs and between your folds with a tenderness that makes your chest feel painfully tight. You want to tell him how much you love him, how amazing he is but what comes out is-

“We can go again right?”

Teal eyes flick upwards at your breathless voice and his signature half smirk has your inner walls contracting around nothing.

“If you want.”

You nod eagerly, holding out your arms and making grabby motions with your finger that make him snort with laughter. He swings you up against his chest and you’re quick to wrap your legs around him as he slides the bathroom door open.

It’s only a short journey from the bathroom to your shared bedroom but it takes longer than it should because you just can’t keep your hands or lips of him. Shamelessly rubbing yourself against him and leaving trails of your arousal over his lower stomach. Prior shower be damned; he can’t expect to do something so unbelievably attractive and not expect you to become absolutely _soaked_.

By the time he’s throwing you onto the bed he’s already half hard, head dizzy with the smell of sex on your skin. He’s quick to cover your body with his own, pressing his weight down onto you and holding both your wrists above your head in his larger one so he can have his way with your body without obstruction. Not that you’d stop him.

Sousuke kisses you, long and deep till you pull away gasping for air. A hand on your chin pulls you back, lips and tongue forcing you to match his pace. You love it when he’s like this, moulding you to his liking as if you are clay in his hands.

He shuffles further down the bed, still keeping your arms restrained, and pulls your nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly while his fingers pinch the other one skirting the pleasure/pain barrier, watching with delight as you toss your head against the pillows with a soft moan of contentment. He keeps it up, alternating between the two till they’re raw and tingling and you have to breath a soft “that’s enough” so that he moves on, pressing a trail of kisses down your chest to your naval, where he dips his tongue inside just to see you squirm against his hold on you.

When he reaches the downward extent of his kisses in this position he pulls away; releasing your hands and moving to bend your legs over his shoulders so it’s physically impossible for you to close yourself off to him. No matter how long you’re with him being so spread before his eyes will always make you flush pink, pussy twitching under his gaze.

He softly kisses your clit, then your entrance, inhaling deep and chuckling at your squawk of embarrassment. When he’s had enough of pressing kisses between your folds he lowers your legs to his waist, and you, catching on eagerly wrap your legs around him, feet hooking behind his back.

 He enters you slowly but without the worry from the first time, letting you feel every inch of his cock till his hips are snug against yours; and you are wet enough and turned on enough that the stretch is fine from the start. He takes his time, rolling his hips and angling his thrusts so he brushes all the places that make you shiver and gasp, already sensitive from your previous round. He keeps one hand under your head, the other resting between your shoulder blades so he can press you against him, tucking your chin into his shoulder. Like this he can feel every inch of you on his skin. Enveloped by your scent, your arms and the way they cling to him, the way your stomach brushes against his every time you angle your hips to meet him halfway. It’s lovely and sweet and he would be quite happy to bring the two of you over just like this, this unhurried lovemaking where you gasp and sigh sweetly in his hold.

“Oh Sou,” Your breathless voice makes him shudder and fight to lessen the non-existent space between you. He loves the way you sound when he’s fucking you good, all breathless and wanting….

“Oh _Sou,_ I Love you.”

Sousuke grunts into your neck with furrowed brows and quickens his pace slightly. He’s not going to be able to keep it together if you keep saying these things, but it doesn’t seem like you’re stopping anytime soon. Your hands trail from his shoulders all the way to the top of his thighs in one continuous line that makes his skin tingle, hyperaware of your touch as they begin the journey back up his body, stopping briefly to give his ass a playful squeeze just because you can. He makes a harassed noise and you giggle, but it dissolves into a moan as his hold on you shifts to your hips, changing the angle and making stars erupt behind your closed lids. You’re cooing words of praise into his ear that has him snapping his hips faster against yours, driving you ever upwards towards release.

“ _Ah_ right there Sou! You fill me so well~ so hot and big and - _Oh_!”

Your words are cut off as white hot pleasure bolts through you, a tell-tale sheen of sweat beginning to form across your skin as you climb higher and higher, voice taking on a new pitch of desperation. Unknowingly your nails bite into his skin as you deliriously twist in his grasp, leaving little tracks of red that his gym mates will snigger at tomorrow. But right now they only serve to spur him on further, as they always do, groaning as he tries to pull back further so his thrust can be more aggressive; but your wrapped around him so tightly it’s getting hard to move like this, the muscles in his legs burning from the strain of fighting against your clasped limbs.

He detangles himself from your arms and sits back onto his heels, gripping your thighs in his hands as he plunges into you hard enough for your moan to become a yell.

The view from up here is spectacular. Your hands have fallen away to your sides and now grip the sheets as your back arches against the onslaught. Like this he can watch his cock disappear inside of you on each thrust and see the vibration through your entire body as his thighs slap against yours. Your mouth working to shape words he fucks out of you in the form of garbled I love yous and mindless babble. This part never fails to scare him slightly, the part where you would let him do anything to you and thank him for it. It’s always a sobering realisation. He likes it rough sure, he likes being in charge sure, but it would kill him if he crossed a line he couldn’t see. He loves you and he doesn’t plan on screwing this up. Rin always makes fun of him for being “practically married” or “whipped” over the phone but he likes it. Likes taking care of you and having you rely on him in every aspect of your lives, and that includes here. When you’re at your most vulnerable.

A hand on his cheek pulls him from his daze, your eyes are open and strangely bright as you attempt to pull his face to yours. He bends easily, already knowing what you want, and kisses you with the words he doesn’t often say but never fails to show.

This, coupled with the fact that his thrusts haven’t let up one bit has you breaking away with a sharp cry, walls fluttering around his pulsing cock, you’re so close, so _fucking close_ -

Sousuke pulls out in a rush and you cry out in distress, your walls achingly empty as your almost climax fades away. It must sound pathetic because Sousuke is making little shushing noises as he turns you over and dumps you on your stomach, hiking your ass up but leaving your face where it is on the bed. Now that you understand you rise up on your toes and reach back to spread your cheeks wide, willing him to hurry up and _get his cock back inside you goddamn_ _it_!

Sousuke groans at the sight, his hands taking their place so that you can wrap your arms around the pillow in front of your face. You hold your breath as you feel the head of his cock nudge your weeping entrance, body trembling in anticipation. But it passes over it and catches in your folds, sliding between them in torturously slow strokes that have you groaning in frustration as it brushes up against your clit each time.

 Behind you and out of your sight Sousuke grins darkly as you wiggle your hips in a vain attempt to entice him. But he’s having too much fun here. Able to see the muscles under your skin shake and your asshole twitch each time he passes over your dripping entrance and marvelling at the glistening wetness on his dick that allows him to slide easily between your folds, proof of your need for him. He licks his lips and spreads you wider so that you’re completely on display for him, angling himself so that the swollen head of his dick is prodding against your opening, taunting you with the promise of a fat cock piercing the deepest parts of you.

“Sou!” You’re almost sobbing, hands about to pull apart the pillow in your hands in your frustration, “Sousuke please, I want it! _Ple_ -Ah!”

Your mind short-circuits as Sousuke’s thick cock plunges into you. Filling your walls, pounding into your greedy cunt till you’re shoved up the bed from the force of it and he has to drag you back. Hands moving to the dimples in your lower back to keep you where he wants you; which incidentally, is where you want to be too.

 _Oh god it’s deep like this._ You don’t ty to meet him halfway, you can’t. Not when he’s pressing you down into the mattress like that. so you simply squirm and plead, filthy words falling from your mouth in a stream of unchecked nonsense as his cock stretches your walls and makes stars dance across your vision.

“Ah god fuck me! _Harder_! Just fucking take m - _ungh_!”

Fingers hook into your mouth, obstructing any words but not your groans. With how close you were before it’s no surprise that you come fast, contracting rhythmically around his fat cock as your pillow half smothers your cry of relief. But he doesn’t stop, even when your body stops shaking. If anything his thrusts are harder now, the wet sounds of your release accompanying the _smack smack smack_ of his hips against your ass. Your eyes widen in panic as you feel a second orgasm building in your core. _Oh god, is he trying to kill you?_

You try to tell him to give you a second, to let you adjust, but your tongue won’t cooperate. Above you, you hear the tell-tale ragged breathing pattern that warns you he’s close and you give up trying to tell him. It’s fine, you can hold out till he’s done.

A finger on your abused clit, sore from overstimulation, has you rethinking that assumption. You feel weird and shivery, trying to think is like keeping water in your cupped hands. Your entire world has become the sensation between your legs, so good it almost hurts. What follows are some of the most embarrassing sounds you’ve ever uttered in your life; and even half smothered by the pillow they spill past your lips in torrents, wave after wave of desperate, pathetic cries that bounce around inside of your head.

Sousuke’s groan rumbles above you and a second later warm come is painting your insides, and like that your gone, arching your back with a chocked gasp. The world is no longer the sensation between your legs, the world has simply ceased to exist. As if from far away you can hear the ragged scream of your boyfriend’s name but in your hazy state you can’t make out where it is coming from.

When everything comes back into focus for the second time that night the first thing you see is a pair of concerned teal eyes.

“Was that okay? I didn’t hurt you right?”

You’re on your back and under the covers, proof that you’ve lost time. Your core throbs dully but not in bad way, it’s your dead legs that cause a spike of amusement to flash through you.

“I can’t move.”

A harsh inhale warns you that you’re not explaining yourself right.

You laugh, stretching your arms above your head and sighing at the satisfying pop of your shoulder.

“That was incredible, so stop worrying! But don’t think you get out of cuddles mister, get over here.”

 Sousuke’s tense face relaxes into a tired smile as he flops onto his back and opens his arms. You tuck yourself against him, snuggling closer as he pulls the blankets down more firmly over your bodies. You rest your cheek on his chest while he dozes in the afterglow; one hand behind his head, the other wrapped around your waist. He always gets sleepy after the two of you go at it.

His thumb grazes gently up to your hip, soothing the bruises his grip on you has left there and then dipping back down, making you drowsy from the soothing nature of the simple caress.

Five minutes pass in this manner, a hazy, lethargic kind of bliss. Sousuke has almost fallen asleep, content with your warm body pressed against his side, your finger drawing nonsensical patterns over his collarbone.

But then you cry out, jumping up in horror and startling him into a sitting position.

“We didn’t use a condom!”

Sousuke, who has tensed up at your distress and holds you tightly as if to protect you from some external threat stills for a beat, then relaxes back down onto the pillows making peace with his fate.

“Oops?”

You huff and hit his chest with your palm, obviously less than happy with his unconcerned answer.

“I’m _serious_! What if I got pregnant?”

“I’d make you happy”

You roll your eyes, missing the promise in his words, but your next exasperated question allows him another chance to make you understand the nuance of his assurance.

“What you gonna marry me?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

His answer pulls you up short, eyebrows raised in complete surprise and mouth threatening to spill into a smile. Sousuke lips quirk into a smug expression at seeing your eyes misting over, but then he blinks and you’re back to looking completely pissed off so he has to wonder if it was simply the power of wishful thinking.

You settle down grumbling a few choice words at him, already factoring in a trip to the chemist in the morning. You’re quiet for all of seven seconds before you snort derisively, glaring up at his serene face with pink cheeks.

“Tch, knocking me up then marrying me. Dumbass.”

Sousuke doesn’t even bother denying it, resting his arms behind his head and smirking down at your flushed face with an easy confidence.

“That’s the plan.”

“You…. you’re actually trying to get me pregnant! Jesus Christ Sou we’re only 20!”

You hiss the words at him, rolling away to your side of the bed with your back to him, signalling the end of the conversation and any post-coital cuddles. But it seems Sousuke doesn’t get the memo.

“So after Uni….”

“Go to sleep, I’m not talking to you!”

Sousuke shuffles onto his side and scoops you up, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to your neck. You grumble slightly but let him, purely because you always get cold at night and his body is like a furnace and _not_ because your stomach is still fluttering with butterflies when you imagine being married to the big lump at your back.

“I love you.”

“I love you too now go to sleep. We will talk about this in the morning after I get some pills.”

Sousuke makes a wounded sound, laying a hand gently against your belly.

“But you’d make such a cute mum…Oof!”

“Go to sleep!”


	20. Confession (Kageyama Tobio)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! No smut here today but enjoy this new addition to the thread character :)  
> Also because this is the starting thread and how I head cannon Kags would be in love this wont have much sexual tension/romance etc as some of my other ones but all in good time ;P  
> Also I haven't re-read this a much as I do for the others so hopefully there are not to many errors, I really am not a detail person but I will catch them a few days after I update and it kills me lol.  
> With that in mind enjoy :)
> 
> cue Karasuno cameos

You frown at the conspicuous strawberry flavoured milk box stuffed between your indoor shoes.

Another one. Where on earth where these things coming from?

The back of your neck prickles like you’re being watched, as it has for several weeks. You take a deep breath trying to fight down your rising panic at the thought that someone is out to get you, eyes flicking this way and that around the school foyer. Maybe it’s a rogue ninja, or a secret agent in one of those nice pressed suits and dark sunglasses even though your inside. Oh god what if it’s the yakuza come to take away Muffin your pet rabbit! Or- or steal all your class notes! You’ll never pass biology without your notes!

A squeak of a shoe on linoleum makes you jump about a foot in the air but it’s just the dean, muttering and adjusting his wig as he marches past, barely sparing you more than a cursory glance. When he’s out of sight you laugh nervously, giving yourself a little shake. You’re being silly. Of course you would be able to pass biology without your notes, you’re in class five! Emboldened by that fact you reach into your shoe cubby, grasping onto the little rectangle box and pulling it out into the light.

It doesn’t look suspicious… Just an ordinary milk box, the kind you can get from the school vending machines, and it doesn’t seem tampered with in anyway. There’s a weird angry looking pen scribble blacking out one corner but it seems harmless enough. Feeling very courageous you decide to actually drink this one, maybe it’s not a promise of retribution from an unseen enemy, maybe it from a fairy, a fairy of milk! No that sounds a bit far-fetched….. A guardian angel then! Yes, that sounds nice, even if it’s not true you’ll just imagine that. A beautiful angel that’s calming and soft with a lovely smile and glittery eyes and – okay maybe you’ve read too much shoujo manga lately…

With a shrug and a flourish, you whip out the little pink straw attached to the side of the carton, stabbing it through the top as you spin in a swirl of skirts. Sucking happily as make your way down the corridor with a spring in your step and your mind full of gentle hands and soft glances, from an angel no less!

 

Behind the next row of shoe lockers Kageyama clenches his fists in victory. Delighted that he has successfully communicated his feelings of admiration. He was wise to scribble out the heart he had clumsily drawn on the top, he doesn’t want to come on too strong and scare you away.

So you like strawberry milk. He must remember that. He _had_ wondered if you had simply been lactose intolerant after all his failed attempts so he’s glad that is not the case and he was just picking the wrong flavours. Milk boxes are the cheapest things in the school vending machines and his allowance is already running low from delivering them every Monday. Also you could use the calcium. If you grew a bit you might not be as afraid of him as the girls in his class….

 Of course you would have been a strawberry milk person! He had been a fool to waste his time with chocolate when the answer had been staring him right in the face. Mentally he adds this new information to his ever growing list which consist of things like: _Has fairy bread in her bento box. Has a cute smile. Wears pink bows in her hair._ And now - _Likes_ _strawberry milk_

Mission successful Kageyama turns and stomps his way to class, unable to stop a wide smile from forming. He passes a girl with plaits he doesn’t know, _or at least doesn’t remember,_ who takes one look at his face before erupting fire-truck red. Rattled Kageyama speeds up covering the bottom half of his face with a hand and sending her a self-conscious glare that has her skittering into the nearest bathroom with a squeak.

 

It’s when the team is changing into their school uniforms for a day of snore worthy lessons, after a particular grueling practice no less, that Kageyama poses his problem to his seniors.

“Nishinoya senpai! Tanaka senpai! I need your help.”

A brief startled look flitters through Tanaka’s face, but Kageyama only catches a glimpse of it before his gaze is filled by Nishinoya jumping into his field of vision with a grin stretched from ear to ear.

“You’ve come to the right place my young padawan! We are all-knowing.”

“Unless it’s anything to do with school work.”

Ennoshita’s muttered jab goes unanswered - _with the exception of Tsukishima’s catty snigger from the corner_ \- and Kageyama takes a deep breath trying to get rid of the uncomfortable swirling in his stomach. He doesn’t really want to ask anyone this but he’s getting desperate because for some reason you haven’t connected the milk boxes in your shoe locker to his crush on you, and he _has_ heard his seniors mentioning things that may help him. Maybe. He really has no idea at this point.

“You both have experience with girls right?”

Behind him Sugawara erupts into a violent coughing fit that Kageyama can’t help but think looks rather painful and Daichi, with a face like thunder, has to thump his back several times to get him breathing again.

Tanaka throws his head back with a raucous cackle, ignoring Suga’s near death experience behind him as Nishinoya slaps Kageyama on the back hard enough to knock him a step forwards.

“Do we ever! You leave this to your senpais, what do you want to know?!”

Kageyama tries to wipe his sweaty hands on his pants surreptitiously and organize his thoughts around the annoying buzzing in his head that’s been there since this morning.

“Okay so….um.” Gosh this was gonna be harder than he had thought.

“I like a crush -I have a girl, no um,” Kageyama splutters, face flaming and sweat beading on his forehead.

He’s regretting setting himself up to ask this in such a public place, he has the sneaking suspicion that even Tsukishima is a little too still as he arranges his bag to not to be listening.

A fully recovered Suga places a hand on his shoulder in a comforting way, his mouth turned up slightly at the corners. “Well what have you done so far to let her know that you like her? That’s what you’re asking right? How to confess?”

“Yi-ya-yes…”

“So?” Suga prompts, eyes kind.

“I left milk in her shoe locker…every Monday…and she drinks them now?” He doesn’t know why it sounds like a question.

“And?”

Kageyama glares a hole through the floor, face more red then it has ever been in his life.

“That’s….that’s it.”

Hinata takes that precise moment to skip into the locker room humming off-key about bathrooms or some such. He pulls up short as he takes in their arrangement, his nose scrunched in curiosity: Tanaka and Noya are winking and elbowing each other, Tsukishima looking like he wants to sidestep Hinata in the doorway to throw himself off the balcony, Ennoshita’s barely concealed grin. The tiny middle blocker looks around with comically wide eyes “What’s happening?”

“Some poor mortal attracted the interest of the king.” Tsukishima’s voice can be heard even past the material of his shirt as he pulls it over his head.

“He has a crush,” Yamaguchi supplies helpfully at Hinata’s blank look.

“OOoooOooOhhh!” His squawk of excitement has Kageyama wincing, hand descending on his skull to try and stop him as he hops from foot to foot, hands clapping together and generally making more noise than someone of a measly 5’4.7 foot should be able to make. “Do I know her Kageyama?”

Five minutes later the whole team, even Tsukishima (though Kageyama thinks it is just so he can provide snide commentary), are in a circle trying to help Kageyama on his mission to confess. Unfortunately, after everyone has been briefed on the situation it’s simply turned into a free for all, with everyone contributing their two cents over the others into a confusing mess of advice, cautions and insults.

“Bakayama get her flowers not milk!”

“Show her your manly side! Sweep her off her feet!”

“Okay why don’t we all just calm down and let Kagey-“

“No matter what we say the King’s a hopeless case, we might as well-“

“Here’s what you do!! Buy a thousand roses, then you arrange them in a-”

“Tanaka shut up, you know literally nothing-“

“ALRIGHT EVERYONE OUT NOW!”

In shocked silence the entire team swivels in Daichi’s direction, shivering at the dark aura that his disarming smile does absolutely nothing to eliminate.

“We have class in less than five minutes if any of you are late I’ll have you running laps around the gym until you puke, are we clear?”

 

Later Kageyama decides to learn more about you by staking out your classroom during lunch.  He makes sure to go disguised, obviously, but unfortunately it’s sort of ruined by the arrival of a giddy Hinata, pulling along a rather confused looking Yachi.

“We came to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid,” Hinata informs him in a loud voice while Yachi gives him a slightly helpless, apologetic smile.

“Which one is it?” Hinata asks head swaying from side to side and hand shading his eyes from an imaginary glare as he surveys the class five homeroom. Ignoring several politely confused looks from the students at their desks and squawking when Kageyama jabs him in the side. “Stop being so obvious dumbass!”

“Kageyama…” Yachi’s voice is weak in the vein of a person who feels compelled to say something regardless of anxiety. “Please take off the um….disguise. It -it kinda makes you more conspicuous don’t you think? And well, we’re inside, you don’t need sunglasses. Or a hat….”

With burning cheeks Kageyama removes them, ignoring Hinata’s confused “Conspicuous?” and Yachi’s following explanation in favour of watching you scribble in a cute pink notebook with your tongue between your teeth.

Hinata follows his gaze and makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat and exclaims,“You like the really girly ones Kageyama? I wouldn’t have guessed that!” at the same time Yachi frowns in disbelief and squeaks, “[Name]-Chan?”

She cowers back when her words have both boys whipping round to stare at her with big eyes. Hinata’s voice is awed.

“You know her Yachi?”

“She was in my middle school, and I mean we _are_ in the same class… I -I could talk to her if you want?”

Kageyama ponders this possibility, it’s not a bad one, less expensive then Tanaka’s thousand roses route at any rate.

“O-okay.”

Hinata claps happily, throwing his arm around Yachi’s shoulders and attempting to do the same for Kageyama, ignoring his strangled yell as he is bent in half so that Hinata’s arm can reach him as he whisper-yells into Kageyama’s poor ears.

“This is so exciting! It’s like a shoujo manga. Don’t worry Kageyama I’ve read heaps of Natsu’s ones so between Yachi and me no plan can fail!”

Kageyama wonders why his words fill him with a sinking feeling.

 

The next day Yachi catches you leaving the bathroom with the intention of starting up a conversation. However, her plan to casually mention Kageyama and invite you to practice is turned on its head by your following words:

“Ya-chan I think someone is targeting me”

It takes a second for Yachi to understand the meaning around your matter of fact tone. But when it does it hits her like a small truck delivering ice cold realisation with a side of fear to her doorstep.

Her voice cracks painfully high as her stress levels rocket skywards.

“W-what!!”

You nod, face set as Yachi’s eyes flick around the empty corridor as if she expects swat teams to burst through the windows screaming bloody murder. She jolts as your hands descend on her shoulders. You try to keep your voice low as you deliver the fateful news. 

“A man with a dark aura keeps following me everywhere, I think he’s waiting for the chance to strike!”

Yachi looks ready to wet herself, shaking like the last leaf on the tree “That’s -that’s not possible.”

You gasp loudly, ignoring her weak protest and latching on to Yachi’s arm with a surprisingly strong grip so you can drag her to the safety of the girl’s bathroom, voice frantic.

“Don’t look now, but he’s right behind you!”

“What?!!”

You quickly smother her frightened yelp with your hand, hissing into her ear as you peer through the partially open door at the dark figure quickly moving your way.

“Shhh he might attack if he spots us!”

You wait until Yachi nods before pulling your hand away from her mouth. She seems unwilling to come over to the gap to watch the man’s approach so she just clings to your sweater with trembling fingers and whispers frantically in your ear.

“What’s he doing? Is he coming this way?”

You shake your head, not taking your eyes off the man as his head swings back and forth like he’s searching for something. With a slightly baffled expression that kind of ruins his whole scary demeanor, but it might be a tactic to lull you into a false sense of security. You pull away from the crack eyes filled with a nameless horror.

“He’s just standing there…… Menacingly!”

The sound of footsteps drawing closer makes the two of you clutch on tighter to each other’s arms, shared looks of fear imprinted on your faces. Your breathing stops as the tall angry man stomps past barely inches from your hiding spot. Beside you Yachi freezes, her mouth falling open into a little ‘o’ of surprise before her face gets decidedly uncomfortable. For which you completely understand, being mere feet from a dangerous, dark and surprisingly handsome stranger is enough to make anyone uncomfortable.

You watch him pause, face puzzled as his eyes sweep the corridor, before he stomps of out of sight. You breathe a sigh of relief. Not today potential axe-murderer, not today.

Yachi taps you on the shoulder causing you to squeak and let the door swing close on your fingers. When you're finished cradling your poor fingers and screwing up your face in pain you notice how incredibly uncomfortable Yachi looks, wringing her hands together as she worries at her lip.

“[Name]-san that’s……that’s Kageyama-kun, he’s in the volleyball team I manage…”

 

A now familiar tingling at the back of your neck has your gaze shifting to the classroom door and, sure enough the dark haire- _Kageyama-kun_ stands there with his bouncy friend. They seem to be arguing, the smaller one gesturing rather obviously in your direction as Kageyama frowns, face flushing as he shakes his head.

You try to take a nervous slurp of your milk ( _you’ve become hooked on the stuff)_  but your hands are shaking so much you miss the straw on your first try and it hits your cheek.

Even though you know Kageyama is _not_ in fact out to get you, honestly you’re still a little apprehensive about him. He’s undeniably scary looking, and you still have no idea why you find his eyes on you so much. During assemble that morning, in the cafeteria and when you’re hanging out in your classroom _-and you always get this funny feeling that Yachi is gesturing to him when you are not looking which isn’t good for your paranoia or what your mum calls your 'hyper-active imagination'-_  Always always always with his eyes on you like a well-trained pointer dog.

Like they are right now. Oh my gosh he caught you staring at him!

Neither of you move for a second. Your gaze locked on his lovely blue _-Lovely? Where did that come from?_

The moment is shattered as, cheeks turning even pinker, Kageyama abruptly turns on his heel and marches down the corridor. Bumping into several people on his way with his shoulders held unnaturally stiff and arms swinging out of time with his legs.

Beside you at her desk Yachi smushes her face into her textbook with a loud sigh.

 

Kageyama is at his wits end. Days of trying to summon up enough courage to engage you in conversation with his friends dubiously helpful advice wringing in his ears. Watching you nervously dart away in the opposite direction in hallways. The excruciating lunch date Hinata and Yachi had organised where he had tried to speak to you and bitten his tongue. Red and fumbling, scowling to cover up his embarrassment, feeling guilty when it had made you shift slightly away from him with nervous eyes. He’s never felt so clumsy in his life before, not even in English, and the thumping headache he’s had for four days isn’t helping either his mood or his attempts with you.

He is fairly certain some of his well-meaning senpai’s had been hiding behind the trees on the school quad the whole time to. Bearing wittiness to one of the most horrific experiences of his life, trumping the time he had peed his pants in kindergarten.

He’s had enough. That is why today will be the day he just tells you how he feels about you. That morning in the mirror he tries to go through his usual pre-game psych up but apply it to a confession instead of volleyball and it sort of works. He’s ready, it’s now or never.

This is why his head whips round fast enough to give him whiplash when he spies your familiar figure in the stairwell that afternoon. He makes a beeline for you before you manage to slip off into your classroom, arms and legs out of sync from nervousness and feeling dead tired even though practice that morning shouldn’t have affected him this much.

“[NAME]-SAN I NEED TO TALK TO YO-aggh!”

With how fast he’s making his way towards you and the insistent buzzing in his head _that just won’t shut up,_ it’s no wonder he trips over his own feet halfway down the stairs. He sees everything in slow motion. You, pressed up against the landing wall frozen in horror, rushing up to meet him scarily fast as he falls towards you.

In panic his hands shoot out to brace himself on the wall behind you, barely managing to avoid clunking his head against yours. The loud thud of impact makes you flinch as it echoes through the silence of the stairwell.

_From their hiding place around the corner Noya whistles in awe of his kohai’s guts, planting his hands on his hip and thrusting his chest out. “Look at him go! He just kabe-donned her, I don’t know why you were worrying earlier Suga-san. He has a true man’s spirit!”_

Kageyama sways on the spot, grateful for his fast reflexes that kept him from crushing your smaller, fragile body under his weight.

His body is sick with nerves, thoughts spinning off in all directions. He sags forward, putting his forehead against the cold plaster of the wall angry at his inability to express himself. if the buzzing in his head would just shut up for one bloody second it would all be fine! He’s burning up from embarrassment at this whole stupid enterprise. This is why he should have just stuck with what he knows! But now he’s come this far, he might as well make it worth it.

He pulls back so he can see your face and swallows up the courage to open his mouth but no sound comes out. The world is spinning in circles and everything that is not your wide eyes has faded to blackness. He can see his face in your pupils, flushed and sweating. Just say it! _Just say it Tobio damn it!_

“I…”

There’s a rushing noise in his ears, he’s having trouble keeping his gaze on your eyes. _They’re so so pretty, how can they be so pretty?_ Then the black swirling at the edge of his vision covers even your stricken face and that’s the last thing he remembers.

 

Kageyama wakes up in his bed much too hot and much too cold at the same time. His body hurts everywhere. When he tries to roll on to his side with a pained groan he notices the wet cloth on his forehead as it slips sideways. Ah, this explains why he was feeling so crappy all week.

Keeping the cloth in place with one hand he fumbles for his phone, squinting as the glare of the screen lights up.

 

_**3 messages:** _

 

_**From: Hinata** _

_**To: Kageyama Tobio** _

_**Sub: no sub** _

_**!!!!! Kageyama don’t die!! the team needs u!!! :’(** _

__

_**From: Hinata** _

_**To: Kageyama Tobio** _

_**Sub: no sub** _

_**Yachi just told me u are not dying don’t scare me like that idiot!** _

_**Did u tel [name]-san about ur feelings? ;) ;) ;)** _

__

_**From: Sugawara-Senpai** _

_**To: Kageyama Tobio** _

_**Sub: no sub** _

_**How are you feeling? Don’t worry [Name]-san is fine, we took her to the infirmary at the same time as you and she was very understanding. Message me so I don’t worry about you :) <3** _

 

You had been hurt? Kageyama stares down at his phone shock and embarrassment coiling in his gut. He desperately tries to remember when that had happened in the stairwell after he had tripped but everything is coming in fuzzy. One things for sure though. He had screwed up his confession more than anyone has in the entire history of confessing. Probably, he doesn’t know how he could ratify that statement but it seems well within the bounds of plausibility with how thoroughly he had fucked it up.

He throws his phone onto his bed and turns over to yell into his pillow. Wanting to sink into the bedclothes and never be found. How on earth is he going to face you now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder how many of you caught the spongebob reference ;)
> 
> I tried to do something a bit different for me as I find writing comically pretty challenging, hopefully it wasn't to bad. The end is pretty abrupt because there will be a continuation as there is with the majority of my threads so look forward to that.
> 
> Also I have another Sousuke continuation in the works as well as Akaashi/older reader as per request because that is my jam. Stay tuned for that and more :)


	21. Domestic bliss (Yamazaki Sousuke)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your hands cup his jaw, running over the day’s growth of stubble there. Pressing a fleeting kiss to his lips, lazy and soft, before moving on his cheeks and his chin.
> 
> “Did you miss me too?”
> 
> “I always miss you”
> 
> _More themes of pregnancy/trying for a baby in this chapter_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive!!!!!!!!!1  
> Life has been getting in the way of my writing again so thank you so much for you patience with me :)  
> I just want to take the time to thank all of you for your support, it really motivates me. I never expected to have so many people commenting and liking my stuff but I am completely delighted with the fact that I get exactly the same rush of feelings every time as I did when I had my very first comment.  
> This project has and is an amazing way for me to chart my progress because really I just really want to get better :)
> 
> Now that's over please enjoy this mountain of smut :p

Sousuke rubs his tired eyes with the heel of his hand, ignoring the other passengers on the late night train and wishing he was tucked up in bed with your warmth at his side. He’s surly and rundown because his boss made him work overtime for the fourth night this week. Not only is it exhausting, but he knows it makes you lonely to be in the apartment by yourself all day and for the majority of the night. With the move and all none of your old friends are within easy visiting distance and your neighbours, though polite, haven’t really been able to fill that gap in your life.

The pay is good, excellent really, especially for someone fresh out of university. It’s one of the main reasons he said yes to the transfer, and this apartment is much bigger than the last but sometimes he wonders if he is asking too much of you.

A cool female voice tells him his stop is next so he shuffles forward with a few others, trying to be mindful of his large frame.

He makes the walk to his apartment building in record time, wanting nothing more than to collapse against a soft surface.

 When he gets home, his keys go into the bowl on the little wooden shelf, his coat goes on the hook by the door, his shoes get lined up next to yours. It’s an easy routine, one that only took him a few days of practice to perfect. Usually this is when you’d be shuffling down the cramped hallway in your little pink indoor slippers with a greeting smile and a soft kiss. The wonderfulness of such a ritual makes the dark, empty hall even emptier in your absence.

There are no delicious smells coming from the kitchen, nor the sound of your enthusiastic slightly off-key singing. There is, however, a bowl from dinner wrapped in cellophane, a little card balanced on top with his name written in blue pen _._ It’s surrounded by little corny hearts and he can imagine you sniggering as you added them. It stabs him slightly, because he knows he’s been absent from your day-to-day life for too long and here you are with such a nice gesture even if half of it is made in fun.

Sousuke prides himself on being a good, reliable boyfriend. It makes him feel prideful about his own relationship when his co-workers are complaining about theirs. Quietly confident in his ability to keep you happy and satisfied.

He doesn’t feel like he can make that claim right now.

He walks past the food guiltily because he already ate one of the station bentos, though it in no way compared to your cooking. He could have still easily managed to gulp it down regardless but he doesn’t want to, unwilling to delay seeing you any longer.

He moves past the bathroom, the laundry room he can barely fit in, and your office with a soft tread, trying to be as quiet as he can in case you're asleep. His caution was not unnecessary, as he walks into your shared bedroom to find you long gone.

You’ve built up a mound of pillows at your back, something he’s noticed you do when he’s not around, twisted up under the blankets with your hands curled around the material like a cat sitting on its paws. Your face is relaxed in sleep and your soft, even breathing is precious in a way he doesn’t fully understand.

You’re wearing the silky nightdress you picked out the other day and the part of him that is aware you haven’t had sex in two weeks registers the fact that it dips low around your décolletage with how you're lying, exposing the barest hint of one of your nipples to his gaze.

He squashes down any reaction he might have and shucks off his work clothes a little aggressively until he’s down to just his boxers. Putting the rest in the washing hamper off to the side a little more roughly than strictly necessary. He hates having to wear such restricting clothes. The only bright side is that you seem to like them on him.

He kneels on his side of the bed and pulls away the pillows at your back, throwing them at the foot of the bed and  attempting to slid under the blankets in their place.

You stir and he freezes, but it’s too late.

“Hmm Sou?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Sousuke kisses your hair in apology and uses your semi-wakefulness to tuck his arm under your head, laying the other across your body so you are snug against him. The warmth of your body and the silkiness of the nightdress pleasant against his skin. “Go back to sleep.”

You’re quiet for a long time and he suspects you've taken up his advice and fallen asleep again but a soft hand covers his where it rests on your stomach, your voice even softer. Almost a whisper.

“I missed you.”

Your body is still in a way that makes him suspect you’re nervous about how he will react to your admittance, and that makes him feel even worse than what simply your words would have done. 

“I know, I’m sorry.”

You move and he loosens his hold on you so you can turn to face him. He ignores the tempting sight of your nipple, now fully exposed by the bunching of the pale silky fabric, keeping his gaze on your slightly melancholy eyes.

Hands cup his jaw, running over the day’s growth of stubble there as you press a fleeting kiss to his lips, lazy and soft, before moving onto his cheeks and his chin.

“Did you miss me too?”

“I always miss you.”

You nod softly, hands falling away from his jaw and curling in on yourself.

“Then it’s fine.”

It doesn’t sound fine. He tips your head up with his fingers on your chin but you avoid his gaze, and that is just another red flag in a long line of red flags he’s been seeing here.

“What’s upsetting you, sweetheart?”

You take a shaky breath, eyes welling up with tears as you whisper, throat constricting as all of your worries poor forth in a rush.

“The whole apartment block is talking about Mr. and Mrs. Takahashi. You know, the middle-aged couple three floors down? Mr. Takahashi has a mistress and well, she found out and now they’re taking divorce proceedings. It’s really ugly and well, I just worry that -I mean I know we’re not married but we’ve been together for so long and people say-“

“I don’t care what people say. Nothing like that will happen to us.”

“But you always hear stories about salarymen who-”

“I would never do that to you, I don’t even want to. “

It’s the confidence in his voice that makes you believe him, and really, you had been silly to be affected by this news. He’s never done anything to make you doubt him, not from the start of your relationship as high school third years to now. It’s just that you’ve felt so lonely for these past few weeks. He’s gone before you’re up in the morning and back only once you’ve gone to bed and it’s been slowly chipping away at your feeling of security.

“This has been worrying you for a while, hasn’t it? Don’t keep things like that from me. I want you to be happy in this relationship.”

You curl up against his chest, embarrassed that you’re tearing up again at his word. Are you getting your period soon or something? You’re not usually this emotional.

Now that you’ve calmed down you’re hit with how tired you are, wonderfully relaxed from his words and the feeling of his arms encircling your body. _Nothing_ compares to having his arms around you, the steady beat of his heart under your head.

Under the blankets one of your legs wraps around him, hiking the nightdress up to your hip as your foot runs lazily up and down the back of his leg. Sousuke can’t help but reach for the exposed skin, trailing his fingers upwards to give your bum a soft squeeze that pulls you closer to him. You’re not wearing any panties and he has to wonder if you had planned that, as he feels parts of his body come alive at the thought. You make a pleased sound as he continues to grope your ass, still half asleep but willing to let him have his way as long as you can stay close, warm and soft and tired as you are.

He parts your cheeks slightly, fingers running past your asshole to your folds, feeling for your clit with the kind of quiet confidence that comes from making love to the same girl for over six years.

When he finds it, your shaky exhale fans across his shoulder coupled with the little “Oh Sou” that he _loves_ as he starts to rub soft little circles, not hard enough to get you off but enough to draw out delightfully breathy moans from deep in your chest and cause wetness to pool between your legs.

When his arm starts cramping in this position he dips his fingers inside your entrance, with the dual purpose of checking you are wet enough and making you groan lazily at the simulation.

Assured that he won’t hurt you, he moves you onto your back, shucking off his boxers with undeniable haste. Now naked, he takes a moment to appreciate the sight of your pale nightdress flipped up to expose your pink folds, filling with a strange mix of happiness and arousal when you promptly raise your knees, spreading yourself to accommodate him with a coy look on your face.

He grins in reply and pulls down the blankets around both of your bodies, worried that you might be cold before taking you up on the offer, easing himself inside you until he’s flush against your body, bending down so he covers you fully, lending you his warmth.

Your hands are back on his jaw, stroking adoringly as both of you enjoy the feeling of being so close after so long. You kiss him, lips soft and tongue softer as it gently outlines his. You go to pull back but he follows you, hand resting at the base of your neck as he deepens the kiss, hips pulling back to thrust gently into your waiting heat. He swallows your groan, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips to slide against yours in soft strokes. Kissing you like he’s wanted to kiss you all week.

Your foot is back to tracing down his calf lazily as you simply lie back and enjoy, hands outlining the muscles of his back and shoulders that even his business suits cannot hide.

He shifts slightly against you so that his pubic bone rubs against your clit and you pull back from the kiss with a gasp, brow furrowed.

Sousuke swoops in to your offered neck, sucking soft circles with his mouth and lazily running his tongue across your pulse point. Noting with great delight that it speeds up as he pumps his hips once again, making sure to brush against your clit and the places you like inside your weeping core. He keeps his thrusts constant, weight keeping you in place when you start to squirm. Humming happily as his fingers drag the flimsy material of your nightdress low to expose your nipples to his gaze.

Without hesitation, he pulls the nipple that tempted him before into the hot wetness of his mouth, sucking leisurely as his hands run up and down the curve and dip of your sides. You startle with a sound he can't place and try to move away, giggling at his questioning look when he releases your pink and tingling nipple to look at you in worry.

“Tickles,” you say, smile a bit shy and your face flushed from arousal. Sousuke snorts, shaking his head slightly at your ability to still somehow seem angelic and pure even with his cock grinding up against your most pleasurable spots. He goes back to your breasts, kissing a path up to your neglected nipple and grazing his teeth ever so slightly across the hardened peek.

He’s in no hurry and neither are you, but the little tell-tale pinpricks of sensation in your core are a sure sign you won’t last long. You’ve masturbated many times in the last few weeks, the result of many a late night finish on his part, but nothing compares to having Sousuke in you, around you, breathing the same air.

Heat knots in your core, the muscles in your thighs shivering as you begin to climb. He knows you’re close because you start to shift under him, twisting away from the blinding sensation that is almost too much to bear.

To counteract this, Sousuke presses more of his weight onto you, his large hands shifting to your hips to keep you pinned. When you start moaning distractedly, with increasing volume he releases your nipple with a wet slurp so he can watch you fall over the precipice, eyes scrunched shut and mouth open in a wordless moan of ecstasy, and he groans at the feeling of your tight core contracting rhythmically around his cock.

Spent, you fall back against the pillows, body syrupy from your release in the most adorable way. He bundles you up against him, sitting back on his heels so that you are splayed across his lap still sensitive and trembling as his cock slides further into you from the position.

It delights him that you immediately try to press yourself closer to his body, face hidden in his chest. He runs his hands down your spine just to watch you shiver, arms tightening around his neck and whimpering when his hands reach your ass, groping fingers latching onto the soft flesh.

Your head tips up to his as your back arches, as it always does when he gropes you there. He’s still hearing your sad voice in his head: ‘ _I know we’re not married but we’ve been together for so long-‘_

Sousuke kisses the corner of your mouth sensually, voice rough as his whispers against your lips.

“Why would I want anyone else? My girl is so beautiful.”

He kisses your neck, just under your ear where your sensitive. “Just so perfect.”

Along your jaw too, as one hand sneaks between your bodies to play with your swollen clit. His breath coming in a rush as the movement makes you shudder, hips unintentionally grinding into his lap. He takes your lead, rolling his hips upwards, grinning in satisfaction when the added stimulation makes your eyes flutter closed, a drawn out whimper bursting from between your red kissed lips.

“You gonna give me another one, sweetheart? Can you give me two tonight?”

You open your mouth to reply but Sousuke softly pinches your clit and all that comes out is a groan.

“What was that, sweetheart?”

This bastard!

You try again but he fucks up into you as your mouth opens, harder than he has all night and it has you clinging to his shoulders with a loud cry of his name.

He doesn’t let up for a moment and you can feel the muscles in your lower belly tightening on each thrust of that fat cock. The lewd sound of your wetness bringing heat to your cheeks as the control over your body starts to slip sideways again, nails digging into his skin in a way that must be painful.

Sousuke’s thrusts start to get messy, grunting in time with his hips as sweat begins to pool along his brow and upper lip. His eyes widen in panic and he starts to pull out with the purpose of composing himself; but you clench around him trying to keep him there because you are so damn close to coming. Hands scrabbling for purchase on his sweaty skin and mouth working faster than your brain in your panic.

“Inside! Do it inside I want your baby!”

Sousuke wheezes like he’s been punched in the gut and all movement ceases. You have three seconds to panic because _holy shit you had not meant to bring that up right now!_ before Sousuke growls low and deep in his chest, throwing you back onto the bed hard enough that you bounce slightly before pulling both of your legs over his shoulders and pressing down onto you so that you're almost bent in half. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to the sting in your thighs and calves from the stretch, too intent on driving up into you in a kind of animal frenzy, grunting low each time his skin slaps against yours. You can’t do much more than hold on, your hands gripping at the pillow under your head hard enough that your knuckles are turning white from the strain as Sousuke’s thick cock roughly spreads your walls on each thrust. His face pulled into a snarl in a way that should probably scare you but only serves to bring you closer to release.

“Ah! Sou that’s too mu- _ohgodohgod-_ ”

You come with a blinding force, missing Sousuke’s almost reverent expression as he fucks you through it. It’s when you're blinking the haze out of your eyes that you feel the rush of hot, thick come painting your walls and moan appreciatively.

You're unwilling to let him pull out and away from you but positioned as you are you're helpless to stop it. You pout as the delicious feeling of fullness falls away, carefree and lazily content until the memory of what you had blurted out in the heat of the moment steals all the air from your lungs. Sousuke doesn’t say anything while he comes down from his high. Letting your legs fall softly to the bed and mindlessly stroking up the backs of your thighs as if in apology for the stretch.

“You really want a baby?” His voice is deadly serious, making you nervous. Did he not want to have a family anymore? You swallow harshly in the silence.

“I want your baby.”

Sousuke’s face is completely blank as his eye flicker over your face and it flushes under his scrutiny. Eyes much too warm you drop your gaze and worry the edge of a pillow. Voice tiny in the stillness.

“Is that…no good?”

Sousuke’s mind wanders while you wait, completely oblivious to your anxiousness. You bending down to kiss the soft hair of your child before bed, you cute and chubby and pregnant with his baby, you greeting him when he comes home with a toddler hanging onto your legs. He imagines a million scenarios that’s he’s thought about for years and releases all the air in his lungs at once as he brings a hand up to cover his eyes.

“You’re gonna kill me one of these days you know that?”

He doesn’t move from his position above you and neither does he take his hand away from his eyes. You smile slightly, trailing a hand up his chest to pull his arm away.

“Sou are you crying?”

“No, leave me alone.”

You laugh, flushed and happy and Sousuke smiles back, eyes crinkling at the corners as he presses your foreheads together. Wrapping his arms around you and burying his face into your neck so you can’t see that, _yup_ he really is crying.

You hum with happiness, patting his head lovingly as he fights to keep his tears under control shaking softly against you. You know he hates crying in front of other people -even you; it's a remnant of how he was brought up so you let him compose himself. Whispering sweet nothings to him that make his hold on you tighten. 

He falls asleep like that, with his head on your chest and his arms tucked between your back and the mattress like you’re some giant teddy bear. He’s warm and pretty damn heavy but you wouldn’t change anything about this moment for the world.

And when you wake up to find teal eyes gazing at you with so much love in them, you can’t help but wonder what you did in this lifetime to deserve someone like him.

 

...

 

 

“I’m ba-….ack…”

Sousuke almost chokes on his own tongue as he registers exactly what he is seeing, his bag falling to the kitchen floor with a steady  _fwump_.

You have your back to him, head tilted over your shoulder so you can give him a big grin, your tongs in hand. In the air he can smell his favourite burger patties cooking.

None of those things is what is making his mouth run dry or his cock stir to life alarmingly fast in his slacks. You’re wearing a pale pink apron he’s never seen before, the kind with ruffles around the edges, _and absolutely nothing else._

Holy fuck _._

“Welcome home darling,” you purr, wiping your hands on a dish towel and turning to face him. Hips sashaying just the right amount to be teasing as you stalk over to where he’s still frozen. When you reach him, you grab his tie and loosen it, clearly deciding to go all out with this kind of play as you stand up on your tiptoes and pull him down to press a kiss to the side of his mouth. Your next words are breathed into his ear with barely concealed delight at his dumbfounded reaction.

“Would you like dinner, a bath, or me?~”

“You,” Sousuke manages to grate out when his brain starts working again, hands grabbing at your waist and swinging you up into his arms. “Right now.”

You grin like a cat that got the cream as he tries to undo his belt buckle and hold you up at the same time, enjoying watching him struggle and get increasingly frustrated. With a smirk you poke the side of his nose, wagging your finger at him like he’s a bad school boy.

“Ah ah ah! Safety first. Let me down.”

His hands tighten their hold on you momentarily, unwilling to let you go even for a second when he wants you so badly. But you asked him, so he does as you say.

When your bare feet touch the floor you spin out of his grasp and prance back to the kitchen counter; fully aware of your boyfriend’s gaze as Sousuke can’t keep his eyes off your ass, ogling you openly as it jiggles slightly with each step.

When you reach the counter you flick off the element and, that done, bend down to rest your elbows on the hard surface, wiggling your butt from side to side tauntingly. “All for you dar~ling.”

God. If you keep this up he might just come in his slacks. He’s never seen you try anything like this before, but damn he could get used to it.

Sousuke kneels behind you so that his face is level with your ass, breath coming fast and hard as he reaches up to spread your cheeks, peeling open your folds for his pleasure. Like this he can see how swollen and red your pussy is, can smell the sex on you, and a thought hits him with the strength of a small truck.

Fuck. _Fuck_. _He should not be getting impossibly hard at the thought_  .

“Have you… been playing with yourself?”

You giggle, voice gone high and sing-song.

“A~ll day~ I was so lonely without you, Sou-chan.” You attempt to look innocent, batting your eyelashes down at him over your shoulder, but it’s kinda lost in translation when you’ve got your pussy spread apart by his fingers, wetness from multiple orgasms dripping across his knuckles.

“I’ve been veeery naughty Sou-chan, getting off all by myself to the thought of you taking me, with that massive cock and - _Ah!”_

His tongue enters you without warning, warm and wet as his fingers keep you spread, one arm reaching around your thigh so his other hand can set up a punishing pace on your clit. You suck in your breath in shocked pleasure, pussy already sensitive and twitching around the invading wet muscle.

The finger on your clit is precise in its movements. He knows exactly how to play with you, hard and fast then soft and barely-there to drive your need for him through the roof. Sousuke breathes in the smell of your sex deeply as he laps at your centre, headless of your embarrassed whine. When he pulls back, he has your juices coating his lips and tongue. Your disappointed whimper has the rush he associates with being in control of your pleasure spike through his body and the heady sensation turns his voice hoarse in his excitement.

“Who makes you feel good?”

You’re familiar with this game and dutiful in your reply, words running together with your eagerness.

“You Sou, you do so pleas-"

Your eyes implore him to continue but he ignores them, grinning up at you from his position on his knees.

“Whose dick is gonna make you come?”

You wriggle your hips in frustration, wanting his lips and tongue back to teasing your folds.

“Yours.”

“Good girl.”

Sousuke purrs, giving your ass a playful slap just so he can watch the flesh move under his hand. He stands and you snap back around, keeping your eyes fixed on the wall in front of you as your body thrums with energy. At the clink of his belt buckle you let out a breathy whimper, body taunt and mouth dry with anticipation.

Large calloused hands on the inside of your thighs have you jolting in place. A dark chuckle in your ear and you melt against his chest as he leans over your smaller figure, parting your legs more at the silent request of his hands.

When he finally slips inside of you ridged and hot and exquisitely filling your eyes roll back, a groan bursting from behind your lips and bouncing off the kitchen walls in a startlingly lewd manner.

It’s apparent from the start you won’t last long, much of the work already done by his fingers and tongue, and your own orgasms throughout the afternoon as you imagined this very moment.

You make no attempt to stifle your cries each time his hips strike yours, knowing full well your partner gets off on them. You do, however, spare a thought for your neighbours, briefly, but the chagrin is quickly scattered by a thrust against your G-spot that has you calling his name even louder than before.

Your knee is hiked up onto to counter and the new depth has your eyes widening in panic, climax rushing up to you alarmingly fast.

“Ahn Sou I- fuck _coming!_ ”

You sag against the cold countertop as your knees buckle, strong hands on your hips the only thing to keep you from falling into a melty heap on the linoleum. It’s only when you manage to blink the fog out of your eyes that you realise that Sousuke is still hard inside of you. Still now as his hands become enamoured with your ass, your breasts, teeth teasing at the skin of your exposed neck. When he bites down gently you moan, squirming softly in his grasp as he starts to move again. Too tired to do much else as he presses against your lower stomach with one hand, forcing you to tighten up and feel every inch of his fat cock inside you walls.

Sousuke likes doing it from behind, it allows him to hit the deepest parts of you, hard and fast on each thrust. But today. he wants to see your face, wants to share the tender feelings welling up inside of him even as his hips strike against yours in a fury.

For you, the sudden loss of his girth inside you comes without warning. You can feel  something wet chasing out the tip and you flush as you know it to be the proof of your climax.

Large hands keep you upright at he turns you to face him and he can’t help but let out a shaky breath at the picture before him.

Your eyes are glassy with pleasure and he feels unworthy of the adoration he sees in them. Your lips are red kissed, your colour high in your cheeks. It makes for a tantalizing sight. A tug on the collar of his shirt has him moving again, as with a small whine you beg for the exact thing he wants. He bends easily, delighting in the way you sigh happily as your lips meet his. Your lips are drugging against his. He’ll never grow tired of kissing you.

When his neck starts to ache from the angle, he lifts you up onto the countertop, his lips never leaving yours as his fingers play with the apron straps at your lower back. Balanced precariously on the edge as you are, you have no choice but to cling to his shoulders or risk toppling to the floor. You can almost feel his self-satisfied purr as you wrap yourself close.

For a moment it’s nothing but soft and loving. Then Sousuke moves to your neck, lapping at your skin as his fingers follow the curves of your body, moving aside the skirt of your apron to circle your wet, come-slicked entrance. Your fingers clutch at his shirt, trembling and stiff against the white of the material and dimly you notice he has shrugged out of his jacket at some point during your love making but you can’t recall at what point.

When he next speaks it’s low, heavily weighted with suggestion. The dark rumble sending a thrill through you down to your very toes.

“If I’m gonna knock you up I better fill you up real good then mm?”

Your body shudders at his voice, hands tightening on his upper arms at the intensity of it. His fingers explore your folds with loving tenderness, spurred on by your soft whimpers as he presses soothing kisses to your skin at odds with the dark heat in his tone and the crude sounds his fingers are making as they pump in and out of you.

“Are you ready for that? Because I don’t think once is enough…”

You lick your dry lips, and try to find your voice as his fingers slip out of you to find your clit, squeezing gently so you that you squirm in his grasp, voice cracking in the near silence

“Please.”

That’s all he needs to hear as he enters you again in one swift push, starting up a rhythm that has your nails raking down his back from the get go.

He grins viciously as you squeal and clench around him like a good little housewife. Pounding into your tight sheath harder to hear more of those cute moans.

A part of him, and not a small part, wishes he could film this, lodge this memory into his brain in perfect detail so that he can replay it whenever he has work trips. Your frenzied breathing and broken moans of his name, the way your legs shake in his powerful hands. The mix of both of your spend spilling out the sides of your tight cunt on each thrust, filling the air with sounds that are filthy and delicious all at the same time. He says as much and you bury your face in his chest in embarrassment, and his laugh at your reaction is raspy and slightly breathless as you clench down painfully tight in punishment.

He pulls your face up to his to meld your lips together, nipping at your bottom lip and growling in satisfaction when you open your mouth to allow his tongue entrance. The sensual dance coaxing you to kiss him deeper, harder as he swallows each and every groan and whimper. His hands leave your legs and he notes with pride that you waste no time tucking your ankles one over the other behind his back. With his hands free he can use them to pin you against his body more firmly, one on your ass, the other at the centre of your back to keep you steady. Even like this it’s not enough, it’s never enough he wants you closer, wants more of you, anything you're willing to share he will take gladly. He’s climbing, drunk on the feel of you, on the way you scream his name loud enough for the whole apartment block to hear.

Nothing compares to this, not winning a race or being drunk or anything he’s ever experienced in his life.

“Oh Sou,” you sigh, beautifully, brokenly, pressing your breasts into his chest as you arch your back. “ _Oh Sou_ I love you, I love you!”

You come in sync this time, lips pressed together to muffle the sounds of your respective climaxes. You feel faint and shivery, legs and core numb from the pleasure as he pants into your neck; sweat sticking his shirt to his back. You’re not looking so crash hot yourself, panting and flushed, with damp hair sticking to your skin and the straps of your apron loose and baring your breasts to the cold air of the kitchen.

“Bath now?”

You feel Sousuke nods against you but he makes no other sign of moving, too fatigued from your fuck. You run your fingers through his hair and coo praise, loving the feeling of his warm body against yours.

When Sousuke finally stirs, collecting his thoughts from the haze his orgasm has hurled him into he simply, tightens his hold on you. Spent cock plugging up the stream of hot come inside your heat as he lifts you off the counter and carries you to the bathroom with his hands under your ass.

“Greet me like this every day and we’re gonna be pregnant in no time.”

You hum in agreement, eyes sparkling when a sudden thought has you looking over your shoulder at the now cold meal you had been preparing.

“Don’t you want dinner?”

“I’m not hungry for dinner.”

You grin tiredly, smacking his chest with a light hand as he presses intentionally sloppy kisses to your cheek.

“Cheesy.”

Sousuke only grins, the hands on your ass beginning to mould the flesh in a way that makes you narrow your eyes.

“None of that mister. There’s no way I can go another round tonight.”

“Well that’s what you say now. But wait till you have me naked and wet behind you in the bath. I think you're about to become your own worst enemy here.”

“I knooooww but you’re just so damn attractive!”

Sousuke laughs at your begrudging whine, kissing you with all of the happiness in his heart as he slides the bathroom door open with his foot.

 

 ...

 

“Did you finally ask her to marry you?”

Rin’s voice is slightly crackly over the phone as he tries to ‘guess what’.

“Not yet but I will, but that’s not the news. We’ve decided to have a baby.”

“…What?”

Sousuke rolls his eyes, picking at the crackers he’s set out on the coffee table in the living room.

“A baby. You know, ‘when a mummy and a daddy love each other very much-‘“

“Oh shut up.”

Sousuke sniggers, moving so he’s laying over the whole couch with his feet hanging off the end as he listens to his best friend talk.

“Forgive me for asking it’s just I distinctly recall you at 20 drunk off your ass saying you wanted to knock [Name]-san up. You _have_ thought this through right? A baby is more than some way to monopolize [Name]-san, it’s a human being.”

“Really?”

“I’m being serious! It’s just, it’s a big step. Are you sure?”

Sousuke runs through the cons of having a kid with the person he adores and wants to spend the rest of his life with and finding none, speaks seriously into the receiver.

“Yes, definitely. I’ve always wanted to have a family.”

Then he can’t help but grin, tone just the right amount of mocking to wind Rin up without making him mad “Are you sure you aren’t just jealous because I have time for these things and you're stuck training your ass off?”

He hears Rin sigh, and can almost imagine him standing at his apartment window, scratching his fingers through his hair with a half-smile.

“Maybe a little. I’m happy for you, [Name]-san will be a really good mum.”

“Thanks.”

His best friends voice turns thoughtful, then teasing.

“It’s so weird to think you’re gonna be a dad, you better name your kid after me.”

Sousuke opens his mouth to reply but the sound of the front door opening has him perking up like a pointer dog.

“That’s [Name]. I’ll talk later, I gotta go and make some babies now.”

Rin makes a disgusted sound, voice rising slightly over his disgruntled rebuttal.

“ _Wow._  Thanks for that image, bastard.”

Souskue just hangs up with a chuckle “Sorry I can’t hear you over my domestic bliss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Hopefully you liked that, I have a Oikawa/Uni student and Akaashi/older girl intro's in the works along with continuations for many of the other already established threads. If you would like to suggest something feel free and I just might pick it up and run with it as if you trawl through some of the comments you can see I have used material or premises suggested by readers.  
> Also I am curious as to what your favourite threads are because I like to create chapters that make all of us happy so tell me what your favourite ones are and they just might jump forward in the queue :)
> 
> Also If you see a spelling error -that isn't just my British-English spelling- Please let me know OHMYGOSH. I really am not a detail person and it kills me when I find them after I have published something but it's bound to happen in the future despite my best efforts :p


	22. Stay with me (Akaashi Keiji)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why the fuck did this become so long? Your guess is as good as mine. Why did I decide to write this when I am so bogged down by Uni assessments? Because I hate myself apparently.
> 
> Right I'll stop being dramatic now. This chapter is dedicated to two people, the first is the reader that seemed to read my mind and thought that Akaashi would like an older girl and the other is the writer Momothesweet who has taken the time to help me with grammar whenever I have dumb questions becuase as you guys have probably noticed I am still learning when it comes to that stuff. If you guys are looking for more Haikyuu!! goodness, including reader-inserts, deffs check her stuff out :)  
> And forgive me for any continuing errors :p

 “[Name]-san is coming back from Uni next week; do you remember [Name]-san? Anyway she’s gonna be staying at our place coz she broke up with her boyfriend, I hear he was a total jerk, if I ever see him I’m gonna beat him up! Anyway she’ll be staying with us so-“

Akaashi fades out after that. You’re back in Tokyo. After a year overseas on exchange. And not just that, you will be in Bokuto’s _house_ , four down from his. What the fuck is he going to do?

 _Do you remember [Name]-san?_ Like he could ever forget you. You’ve only been his completely out of his league, unattainable crush since as long as he can remember. He frowns at the streetlamps as they pass under them and tries to keep his nerves under control. He’s good at it he knows. Bokuto prattles on, barely stopping for a breath, none the wiser to Akasshi’s inner turmoil.

He drops Bokuto off at his house, calling a greeting to Bokuto’s smiling mother. Five minutes later he is lying on his bed with his phone in the air, swiping through pictures on your Instagram and feeling mildly guilty about it.

They’re mostly all dorky shots of you with friends, or cute animals with way too many exclamation marks in the description. He swipes past one of you pretending to be eaten by a crocodile statue at your host cities local zoo, quickly past another of you at the beach in a white bathing suit that does things to him he’d rather not explore right now, a city nightscape and a selfie, until he finds what he is looking for. It’s a still of all three of you, Bokuto on one side with a big goofy smile and a raised glass, himself on the other with the barest hint of a blush that he can’t help but frown at, and you in the middle with your arms around his and Bokuto’s shoulders, and a smile that does just as much to him as the white bathing suit does, if in a completely different way.

It’s a throwback shot from a year ago when you had been accepted into the University of your choice. When seeing you had been a daily, if not weekly occurrence.  Not something that happened at random, unplanned intervals between semesters.

He remembers how happy you had been then, laughing and jostling his shoulders, tipsy and beautiful and completely unaware of the eyes following your every move from the bar section of the restaurant your family had chosen for the celebration.

He can remember the elation he had felt when you had kissed his cheek at the end of the night, and the embarrassment immediately when you had petted his hair  afterwards like he was…..well, a first year in high school.

He has many embarrassing memories regarding you, the result of knowing you since he was a baby he supposes.

A particular mortifying incident where he wet his bed staying over at the Bokuto's house, and ended up being caught trying to stuff his sheets into the washing machine with teary eyes, even now stabs him at night when he is trying to get to sleep. Always when he thinks he has finally forgotten it. Filling his stomach with sticky hotness.

Of course you just had to be staying over on the same night, parents out of town on one of their many business trips, and _of course_ you had been the one to find him trying to work the washing machine at six years old, mortified to be seen being so childish in front of the person he saw, even then, as cool and mature. You had helped him change his bedclothes and had never told anyone about it. He hadn’t been able to look you in the face for weeks after that.

Or the time when Bokuto had forgotten to knock and thrown your door open to find you half way through pulling on your uniform. Akaashi had been hanging back fiddling with his phone at the time but he had caught a glimpse of your stomach and bra clad breasts when Bokuto had dodged the hair brush that came hurtling his way.

He’s embarrassed to admit that at 13 he had jerked off twice to the memory that night.

Akaashi prides himself on his self-control, on being above the notion that men are animals who think with their dicks. But holy fuck you test him. You’re his hairpin trigger, always have been. With you he doesn’t even have to think about sex specifically, just the nape of your neck, or the smell of your favourite perfume, your perfect, perfect mouth and he can feel his concentration slipping.

Like it is right now.

Fuck no, quick think of something safe, like volleyball. Yes volleyball is good, it’s a good thing you only came to a handful of games in middle school, that would have been a disaster to his concentration, but you would have looked cute cheering them on…. _cheering_. Imagine you in a cheerleader’s outfit, that would be something else…Those little skirts and white shoes -no fuck! _Volleyball_ , he must remember that new signal for the team play. It’s a shame you never played volleyball, then he would have had something else to talk about besides the normal pleasantries, and then there’s the shorts, hugging the curves of your ass, jiggling when you jump around….

Okay fuck it this is happening.

With a resigned sigh Akaashi rolls onto his side, fingers quickly swiping back to the picture of you at the beach.

This is so not going to make the reunion any easier.

It doesn’t. Five days later Akaashi is standing next to Bokuto who is practically vibrating with excitement. His favourite cousin, one who is practically a sister with all the time you spent at his house in your childhood and all the way through to university, is two minutes away. If your call ahead text is anything to go on.

Akaashi, in comparison looks unruffled. A subtle check of his reflection in his phone tells him what he already knows. His face retains his usual, slightly bored cold front he works to maintain at all times. He’s always been slightly jealous of Bokuto’s honest emotions. So obvious for everyone to see. It’s an ugly part of himself he doesn’t like to dwell on.

“Keiji, I don’t want you to hang out with someone so undignified. No one with sense will ever respect him if he behaves like that, and I don’t want your friendship with someone like that to reflect badly on this family. Do you understand?”

His mother’s manages to look dignified even on the small plastic chair at his kindergarten. Surveying the other families here on parent-teacher night like a queen weighing up whether the newcomers at court were worthy of being allies or not.

Akaashi doesn’t take his eyes off his new friend drawing pictures with a crayon in his chubby fist, his tongue between his teeth as he sprawls at the feet of a women with the same coloured hair, what looks like a paintbrush stuck through her messy bun. Akaashi is secretly delighted by her paint splattered jeans and happy smile. His mother uses her smile like a shield. Feint and lovely and false.

“Keiji? Are you listening?”

“Yes mother.”

His mother nods, satisfied that they won’t have this conversation again.

But they do.

“Keiji I thought I told you not to be around that boy anymore, we talked about this. I’m very disappointed in you. Think about how it looks. We don’t want people to think we are connected with a family like that.”

His mother only stops speaking because the doorbell rings shrilly through their apartment. She puts down the breakfast things she has been making and motions for Akaashi to move the rest to the table. His father looks over his newspaper as his mother goes to answer the door.

“Don’t mind her Keiji, your mother just worries that it will hinder my position at the hospital. It won’t. I know being with that boy makes you happy. You’re such a lonely boy. But Keiji you have to smile sometimes, otherwise people won’t want to be your friend. I know you don’t mean to but you look defensive a lot of the time. You should learn from that boy, Bokuto? He won’t go far in life but people like that always make friends easily.”

Akaashi shakes his head to rid himself of depressing thoughts but they still linger under his skin, dampening his mood. But then you burst through the door in a whirlwind of bags and comfy travel clothes.

You’re crying, your aunt and uncle are crying, Bokuto is jumping around you like an excited puppy. But it’s him you lock gazes with first over Bokuto’s shoulder, eyes wet and crinkled at the corners.

“Akaashi! You came!”

“Of course. It’s been awhile,” he says, surprised his voice comes out evenly.

You’re so so beautiful. You laugh at your cousin’s antics and Akaashi’s heart squeezes painfully tight in his chest. When the excitement winds down Akaashi and Bokuto move your things into the little guest room/your unofficial bedroom upstairs.

It had taken Akaashi years to cast off the sense of guilt that sat heavy in his gut every time he played with Bokuto in Kindergarten, then primary, then middle school till now. To this day it is the only thing he has deliberately disobeyed his parents on. His mother still turns her nose up at the Bokuto family, but at least she has stopped trying to keep him from going over.

It’s worth his mother’s frosty glares. It’s always been worth it. He sits with Bokuto on the squashy green sofa in the corner of the guest bedroom while you wander around putting your things into the wardrobe and shelving unit, regaling Bokuto with stories of your travels while Akaashi drinks in the sight of you. The sound of your voice, something he hadn’t even known he had been missing till now.

It’s worth any disapproval of his parents. This easy interaction makes him feel lighter than anything does.

Akaashi checks the time on his phone, it’s late. He’d rather leave now before he gets a passive aggressive text from his mother about studying. When he looks back up he is not particularly surprised to find Bokuto pinned while you rub your fist against his head. Somehow your story has become a wrestling match on the floor. You glance up at Akaashi with a grin, speaking over Bokuto’s loud complaints.

“Thanks for always looking out for my dumbass little cousin while I’m not here. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Akaashi shakes his head, trying not to let your wording aid the blooming fantasy in his heart. “I don’t mind,” he says, standing up to leave.

“Akaashi you are supposed to say I’m not a dumbass!!” Bokuto pouts, sighing with relief when you let him up to hug Akaashi goodbye. He tries. He tries to stop the little gasping exhale as you press your face into his shoulder. Your breath fans across the sensitive skin at his collar, and he can feel goose bumps erupting down his back as your arms encircle him. He feels guilty for savouring the feeling when the simple touch means nothing to you.

Bokuto says something he doesn’t hear as you pull away with a laugh and Akaashi has the ludicrous impulse to pull you back and kiss you.

You laugh with your whole body, it’s wonderful. He knows girls that giggle behind coy hands and soft looks, but you grin so your nose wrinkles and your eyes squint. There’s a moment, as you sit down next to Bokuto on your bed, where your eyes soften, a look of undeniable fondness in your expression. For a second Akaashi lets himself believe you could want him as he wants you. Because he does, oh god he does.

He had thought, hoped really, that your year out of Japan would somehow lesson the strength of his feelings for you. That way he could cut his losses and move on. There are plenty of amazing, kind, funny girls out there. But he knew, as soon as you had swept in the door weighed down by bags with that silly grin, that he is going to love you for a long time. Maybe even forever.

Akaashi honestly can’t remember a time when he hasn’t had some kind of partiality for you. Though it had been more along the lines of infatuation then love as a child. He has been careful; no one could fault him on his guise of familial closeness he has maintained with you over the years. But he feels something in that façade crack right there as you gaze at each other. Some small inkling of his feelings show on his face, and he can’t take them back. Your eyes widen, mouth parting with a soft pop, and Akaashi is both excited and terrified over what that look might mean, but then the moment is ruined by the chime of his phone. His mother, reminding him of his duties to the family.

The next time Akaashi is at the Bokuto house it’s for the flat warming party of one of the Volleyball club alumni. He has to let himself in when no one hears his knock and he suspects it is because Bokuto’s parents are out, the space where their car is usually parked says as much.

He finds Bokuto in the middle of the living room, fixing a handmade headband with a fuzzy halo attached with wire. His tongue is between his teeth and he is slightly cross eyed but when he spies Akaashi his face lights up and he gives an energetic twirl, knocking over a lamp with his dollar store angel wings.

“What do you think? [Name] said it was stupid.”

“It is stupid, but when’s that ever stopped you before?”

“AkaAasshi!!!”

Akaashi squints at his best friend. “Is that a sheet?”

Bokuto nods, “There was a tutorial on how to fold it but I just can’t get it right! Go upstairs and tell [Name] that she has to help me! Oh, and that we’re leaving in an hour”

Akaashi raises his eyebrows, knowing perfectly well that the spike in his heart rate from nerves is in no way noticeable from his expression. He keeps his voice even. “She’s coming with us?”

Bokuto nods, pouting when his toga slips down his chest. “Yeah, sober driving. Go get her will you, this is sucking so hard”

Akaashi tugs at the collar of his shirt as he makes his way up the stairs, suddenly wishing he had tried a little bit harder for tonight. He hasn’t attempted to dress up at all, he had already had to convince his parents to let him stay at Bokuto’s for the weekend, and he didn’t quite explain to them what one did at a flat warming. Convincing them to let their underage son drink is not high on his priority list. He had figured seeing him in a costume would have given the game away so he’s stuck in casual wear for tonight.

The facebook invite for the party had said the theme was ‘naughty or nice’, an obvious ploy to get the girls wearing as little as possible. But suddenly with the prospect of seeing you in some variation of the costume Bokuto is sporting downstairs, the idea seems less stupid then it did five minutes ago.

Akaashi reaches your door, his head still full of the thoughts of you wearing an angel themed costume, and pushes it inwards. He takes a breath ready to announce his entrance when a choked groan gives him pause, his eyes flick upwards and all the air in his lungs leaves him as his brain shuts down, unable to comprehend the sight before him.

From this angle he can only see your head and torso as you recline on your bed, the rest of your body hidden behind the door. You’re very nearly naked, breasts clad in scraps of black lace that leave little to the imagination. The muscles in your upper arm flex and your head falls back against your pillows, twisting so he can see your face. Your eyes are closed, a pretty flush dashed across your cheeks.

“Oh yes, ahnn.”

Akaashi’s eyes widen. Oh. _Oh fuck. Jesus fucking shit._ His brain has suddenly caught up with his eyes. His hand on the doorknob is clenched so hard his knuckles are white, blood is pounding in his ears. He gasps with you as you squirm, moving so you are propped up on the hand not currently between your legs.

“Oh, ooh fuck.”

 _Oh fuck indeed_.

Akaashi is overheated, aware of his cock coming to life alarmingly fast, his jeans uncomfortably tight, and the hot mess of arousal curling in his belly. The sudden impulse to push the door wider and get a visual of what he knows is happening just beyond his gaze has his knuckles straining even whiter.

You moan the same as you laugh, loud and honest. They’re not the carefully constructed moans in the few ero films he has had the displeasure to watch on team bonding night, but they are real and that in itself makes them sexier than any professional performance he’s ever witnessed.

“Oh please, oh auh!”

Where do you like it? What are you imagining? He’ll give you anything, anything you want –oh god you’re so fucking erotic, this is the most— he…. he’s... spying on you right now.... isn’t he?

Akaashi steps back in horror, raising a hand to cover his mouth as he hurries back down the hallway to the stairs. He feels sick, he should have left as soon as he had realised what was happening. He’s an asshole. Holy shit he is such an asshole.

He sits quietly on the stairs with his head in his hands, willing himself to forget the image of you caught up in your fantasies but it’s burned itself into the backs of his eyes. At least he can take this moment to compose himself.

Bokuto’s calls his name in his usual drawn out way and Akaashi lifts his head. Bokuto stands at the bottom of the stairs, his toga near falling off his beefy frame. His brows are lowered in annoyance.

“So did you see [Name]?”

Akaashi almost chokes on his own spit. “What?”

Bokuto’s frown deepens in confusion. “Did you ask her for help?!”

“Oh….um no, she was —seemed…busy.”

Of course Bokuto would choose this moment to suddenly become perceptive. “Hey, Akaashi are you okay?”

Akkashi stands up. “Yeah, fine.” _I’m just a jerk who spies on girls masturbating without their consent and oh, I was imagining banging your cousin, the girl who babysat me as a child, not four minutes ago, I’m fine and dandy._

The jingle of car keys preludes your presence into the living room and by that time Akaashi hopes he has schooled his features into what passes for his usual expression, but his mouth feels tight at the edges.

He watches from the sofa as you help Bokuto untangle himself from his sheet, taking every opportunity to take the piss and laughing at Bokuto’s squawks of indignation.

There’s absolutely no indication that you were getting off earlier. But then, he doesn’t know why he expects there to be.

Your dress is almost down to your knees, black as the lingerie he can’t get out of his head and clingy in a way he finds distracting. You go to get a drink from the kitchen and Akaashi despairs because the click of your heels on the linoleum shouldn’t be as sexy as it is.

Bokuto is happily snapchatting the results of your work to –Akaashi assumes— Shirofuku, blushing like a child the whole time. You snort at your cousin’s antics and lean over the back of the sofa, glass of water in hand. Akaashi can see you appraising him from the corner of his eye but says nothing, choosing to wait for you to speak.

“You didn’t bring a costume?”

Akaashi looks down at himself. Black shirt, black skinny jeans, black shoes. Dressing up isn’t really his thing. He just shakes his head, he’d rather not get into the family politics behind his choice and ruin the pleasant atmosphere so again he says nothing. You grin widely, your hand descending onto his upper arm with a strength that surprises him.

“This calls for drastic measures,” you say, voice worryingly serious and giving minimal space for disagreement.

Drastic measures turns out to mean sitting on your bed while you apply eyeliner on what is apparently called his waterline, smudging it out with a little brush with easy confidence. Akaashi is hyper aware of the fact that he is sitting on sheets you were masturbating on not 20 minutes ago. He’s definitely holding one of your decorative pillows on his lap for a reason.

You wield the eyeliner expertly, completely oblivious to the storm of emotions behind his cool expression as you prattle on about how long his eyelashes are.

“And your skin! Bloody hell it’s perfect. What did you do in a past life time to deserve this?”

“I bathe in the blood of the innocent every Wednesday,” he deadpans just so he can hear you laugh. You don’t disappoint, eyes becoming cute and squinty, and Akaashi is so very in love.

“Is that before or after school?” you ask when your laughter subsides. Resuming your work with the eyeliner, your free hand resting against his jaw.

Akaashi’s mouth curves upward as he replies, “After. It’s hard to get it out of my hair.”

 His heart skips a beat as your fingers absentmindedly stroke his skin. Your voice lower then it was two seconds ago. “Are you teasing me Akaashi-kun?”

Something changes with your question, the air is hot, uncomfortably hot, the space between your faces charged with electricity.

Akaashi swallows and tries for his go-to deadpan delivery again but his voice sounds slightly breathless as he replies, “Maybe,” ramping up the tension in the air to unbearable levels as your eyes darken in response.

A loud clattering from downstairs jars the moment, as does Bokuto’s loud, “I’m okay! This wasn’t expensive right?”

The moment is gone and Akaashi can’t think of a way of getting it back short of kissing you hard and fast like he so desperately wants to.

Finished, you pull back to look at your work with a small frown and a pout while Akaashi quietly thinks about all the ways he wants to mess up the red of your lipstick. The feel of your hands against his collarbone nearly has him flinching, and he glances down to find you unbuttoning his collar. He has all of two seconds to panic before you move on to roll up his sleeves and he’s left feeling stupid with how quickly his mind had jumped ahead.

Your hands delve into his hair, ruffling it and paying no attention to the faint blush he can’t seem to fight down with having you this close.

When you notice his gaze on you, you wink, which should look ridiculous but doesn’t and say, “Sex hair, it’s a good look on you,” by way of an explanation for your actions. Akaashi is not sure he will survive the night. No one would be able to tell from the outside how off kilter he is, he has always made sure of that, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Especially when he can’t see any of the same feelings in your expression. What happened to the low, playful teasing from before?

You lean over his crossed legs for something on your bedside table, which presents the graceful curve of your throat to his gaze. Your scent is most potent there, a dizzying combination of your perfume, whatever you use in the shower and your sweet natural scent. Akaashi’s deep, discrete breaths are interrupted as you pull back and jam something on to his head, catching at his ear. A quick look into the mirror across from him shows him he is now wearing dark red devil horns, presumably from last Halloween or something similar. His eyes slide off his reflection on to yours and he quietly thinks you look good together, side-by-side in matching black outfits, eyes luminous, edged in dark kohl.

You scratch your nose in contemplation.

“Well I guess it’s ‘naughty’ now. I mean it would look better with lipstick marks on your neck or something but-“

Bokuto takes that moment to burst through your door with a war cry, plastic cupids bow aimed at your head. You raise your eyebrow at your cousin but otherwise don’t react, before sighing and putting your eyeliner into your makeup bag, ignoring the little _pew pew_ noises Bokuto makes as he repeatedly ‘shoots’ both of you. Akaashi can’t help but see the irony of that.

Bokuto gets bored with the lack of reaction, bounding closer and belly flopping onto your bed.

“So are we going to this thing or not? Do you know how to get to the flat?”

Once you all finally arrive at the flat in question Bokuto runs over to where Shirofuku is, laughing in a similarly constructed angel costume by the beer-pong table, and pulls her into a giant bear hug. Akaashi follows at a more subdued pace, looking over his shoulder for you, but you wave him away, saying you are going to go and greet the host and telling him to have fun. He feels a bit childish at your response, like you’re dropping him off to play with the kiddies so you can talk grown up stuff in the kitchen.

Bokuto and Shirofuku are beer-pong champions, complete with elaborate handshakes and victory dances. As the game goes on they get more and more elaborate, and even Akaashi can’t help but crack a smile. Bokuto can be a handful at times but he works wonders for lightening Akaashi’s mood.

He chats to a girl waiting in line for a game about her future study plans, but he’s distracted and does her the disservice of thinking of another girl while she smiles and bats her eyelashes up at him.

Akaashi tries not to laugh when Bokuto, who has finally consumed enough alcohol to decides he can dance, attempts to out twerk a bunch of equally wasted girls. His conversation partner looks startled at the sudden burst of humour and proceeds to try to talk him into one of the beds upstairs with renewed interest. Akaashi good humour quickly leaves him, however, when Bokuto yells for everyone to clear the dancefloor to watch him cartwheel. Secretly glad of the excuse to leave the girl behind he helps Shirofuku drag Bokuto to the kitchen for a drink of water. _They both know full well Bokuto can in no way do a cartwheel, and so does Shirofuku’s old stereo. That had been a sad moment…._

In the kitchen you are leaning against the breakfast bar, smiling at Akaashi’s old volleyball senpais as they line up shots, meeting all of their flirty remarks stroke for stroke.

Akaashi’s heart sinks. It’s only natural that others will find you as charming as he does, but it makes him feel woefully lacking when he sees you interact with people your own age. Talking about classes he doesn’t understand and people he doesn’t know. Adult things and adult problems. Whatever fantasies he indulges late at night become pale, frail things, easily torn down as you lean against the counter, laughing and trading inside jokes.

The alcohol is making him surly, he can feel himself spiralling down into familiar thoughts.

_[Name] could have anyone. Anyone she wanted. What makes you think she could want you? So stupid. You’re not good enough for her. Idiot._

But then you turn to the side and catch his eye, a smile curling your lips as you move to say his name in greeting, but it quickly slides of you face as you take in Bokuto, squished between Akaashi and Shirofuku’s shoulders. Complaining as he is frogmarched over to the kitchen sink.

“What’s the idiot done now?”

“Nothing, we’re just getting him a drink of water,” Shirofuku says, grimacing as Bokuto leans heavily on her side and begins kissing her neck.

“Right, well carry on then,” You say, obviously uncomfortable with watching your little cousin neck on with his girlfriend. You decide to spare Shirofuku any more embarrassment and turn to leave, but turn back at the last moment and take Akaashi’s hand. Akaashi looks down at your joined hands in surprise, but lets you pull him towards the backdoor, insides jumping slightly as your fingers brush the sensitive skin of his wrist.

The backdoor leads to a tiny patio, with an old, leaning washing line against the back fence and a few wooden benches angled around a small brazier.

Komi, Sarakui and Konoha are roasting marshmallows someone had the foresight to bring, arguing in loud voices over gravure models, and a couple is giggling over in the corner by the washing line but apart from that the patio is empty and relatively quiet.

You sit on the other side of the fire and pat the space next to you, ignoring, or perhaps completely unaware of the three third years' curious looks. Akaashi swallows, suddenly nervous, and sits so that he can’t see his senpai’s in his line of sight.

You chatter about fond memories and he asks questions about your year out of Japan. He wants to ask you about your Ex-boyfriend, how it fell apart and if you’re holding up, but he's also apprehensive about what you might say so he keeps things light and familiar. It doesn’t take him long to forget he is in the presence of his senpai’s and relax into easy conversation. You smile as he relates some of the volleyball team’s escapades in a dry voice, and when the conversation lulls you turn to face him fully and say, in a manner that books no argument but is still gently probing,

“So what’s bothering you? And don’t try to deny that something is bothering you. People say you are emotionless but I know that is far from the truth, you have to look a little closer to see them, but they’re there. You can’t try and hide them from me Akaashi-kun.” the last words are emphasized with a poke to his upper arm.

Akaashi lips turn upwards slightly in a rueful smile. You’re such an odd mix of the playful foolishness he has come to associate with the Bokuto family and its more distant connections, and a deep pensive nature. It’s part of what had drawn him to you so much as a child, trying to figure you out and win you over by appealing to your nature, but finding it impossible as you flittered between both poles at the drop of a hat. Just as likely to spend three hours wrapped in a book with a slight frown as you were to convince your friends to try roller derby. Eating pizza in heels, wearing a onesie to a restaurant. It often baffled people, confusing those who tried to sort out the pieces of your personality into little ordered boxes, only to be frustrated with the lack of cohesion. You were an enigma, ruled by your whims and unconcerned by any ideas others might have of who you were.

He likes that the most about you. He wishes he could have some of that iron fast confidence in his actions and being. He puts on a good show, but really he is as riddled with doubts as much the next 17-Year-old.

A hand on his forearm brings him out of his reverie, your voice is as gentle as your gaze. “Akaashi-kun, tell me.”

Maybe it’s the liquid courage in his veins or perhaps he is simply caught up in the moment, either way Akaashi finds himself spilling everything he has made pains to keep locked inside for so long. Haltingly, like coughing up stones, but he feels lighter for it.

“You’re right. Something has been bothering me, for a long time actually. I like you, I have for years.”

 You smile brightly and it’s only then that he realises that you have been subdued by your standards on this visit. Shadowed by a small cloud he hadn’t noticed till it was gone, so he keeps speaking, words jumbling over themselves to escape his secret thoughts. “I want to date you, and I know that I am not particularly special but you are wonderful, and you’re – _beautiful_ , you’re so beautiful.”

He’s making a mess of this, with these words that are paltry things in comparison to the feelings plaguing his mind and heart. But he thinks it might be alright because your smile, unfiltered, is like sunlight, and you reach for the hand clenched in his lap, and intertwine your fingers through his.

“Thank god. I was thinking I was crazy, you know, reading something into nothing just because I wanted it to be something. That makes no sense doesn’t it?”

“No it does,” Akaashi breathes, his hand moving to cover yours, “it does.”

His hands are large, larger even then Bokuto’s, long fingered and graceful. His thumb rubs reassuring little circles on your skin.

“I really want to kiss you,” you whisper, gaze flicking between his eyes and his lips.

Akaashi bends under the weight of the emotions filling his body like grass before a strong wind. It’s only natural to sway forwards and shiver as you cup his cheek. As easy as breathing. And not for the first time he wonders what you see. A face set into an expression of mild annoyance most likely, a gangly, uncertain teenager with nothing to offer a women making adult strides out into the world as struggles to catch up. Working twice as hard as his peers so he can stand next to you and feel safe in your equal competence. No, that’s not it. Your compatibility. Before tonight he had not dared to let himself think that word. But if he’s honest with himself, he knows that is the real reason. He wants to be someone you could consider, feel proud of even.

He stops just before his lips press against yours, his heart in his mouth, suddenly nervous for his lack of experience. You have no such qualms and breach those last few inches. Kissing him softly once, twice before pulling away and smiling coyly. And that’s all Akaashi needs to pull you back.

He slants his head, tongue tracing the outline of your sweet lips, murmuring in surprise when you part them for him and he feels the wet, gentle touch of your tongue against his. He kisses you deeper and deeper because this is real, he needs this to be real.

You pull back, breathing hard and there’s something dangerously erotic about it.

The moment is broken momentarily when you laugh and swipe a finger under his lip. “Lipstick,” you say in response to his raised eyebrows. Akaashi moves to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand but you catch it and draw him back in with a finger under his chin. “Don’t bother,” you whisper. Then kiss him again, catching at his bottom lip as your fingers weave into his hair.

He doesn’t know how long you stay there, wrapped up in each other. The world has fallen away. Your fingers sneak under his shirt and glide along the skin of his back and his sides. Gentle as they explore his body. And all the time kissing. Oh how he has dreamed of kissing you. You’re playful and tender and sensual and his heart just might burst from the weight of it all.

He kisses you with all the strength of his feelings. Each one precious and somehow meaningful in its own right. A kiss to the shell of your ear. _I love you_. Another pressed to your jaw. _You’re all I think about._ Your kiss-bitten lips. _Stay with me always_.

“Where were you the whole time? I didn’t see you all night,” Bokuto asks later. When you’re all piled into your tiny car, stinking the place up with the smell of cheap beer and sweat.

“Around,” you say evasively, and in Bokuto’s state he doesn’t question it you're answer. Promptly falling asleep on Shirofuku’s shoulder and snoring as she pets his hair.

It’s kind of an unwritten rule that Akaashi will sleep over at the Bokuto’s after a party, because no one wants to incur the wrath of his mother. However, for the last year he has been staying exclusively in the guestroom you now occupy. You solve that potentially mortifying conversation by taking his hand as the other two drunkenly stagger to Bokuto’s room, leading him to your own. Akaashi swallows down his nerves and concentrates on the comforting warmth of your hand in his.

The door gets closed behind him and he can’t help but feel a bit like a trapped animal. Warily he watches as you flop onto your bed with a groan of relief and make no other attempt to move.

Akaashi clears his throat. “[Name].”

“Hm?” You make a muffled noise against your sheets but still don’t move.

He sits gingerly on the bed beside you, not really sure of the correct protocol here, or your expectations.

“We’re together now right?”

You turn over onto your back and Akaashi keeps his eyes on your face, ignoring the delightful way your body moves under your silky black dress.

“Yes.”

Akaashi nods, swallow uncomfortably loud, you politely ignore his wince at that. Patiently waiting for him to speak. His hand trails up your bare leg to your thigh, slipping just slightly under the material of your dress. _Oh. That’s what this is about._

“Can we—“

You cut his words off with a kiss, your answer clear in your actions. _Yes._

Akaashi reacts instantly, a happy murmur you’re starting to be familiar with spills from his lips as you clutch his body against yours, licking into his mouth eagerly.

To soon you’re pulling away, standing up and moving over to stand beside your wardrobe. Akaashi watches you through heavily lidden eyes, still slightly punch drunk from your kisses and the building sense of possibility in the room.

You bend over, your fingers hooking into the back of your heels and Akaashi is already speaking before he has the chance to think.

“Leave them on”

“What?”

“I want to do it while you wear them”

You laugh in delight, eyes crinkling at the corners, and Akaashi can feel his heart palpitate at the sight. You straighten in one fluid movement, and it takes him a second to realise that fluidity is intentional. He watches with bated breath as you stalk over to him.  Stopping before the bed and resting your hands on your hips.

“How naughty of you Akaashi-kun.”

Your voice has gone low, as it did all those hours ago in this very same room. It’s a bedroom voice Akaashi realises. The kind spoken between lovers.

He rises from the bed and moves to stand in front of you. You watch him, a sensuous smile curling your lips as his arms come up to circle to your back, slowly pulling the zipper of your dress open to the dimples at the base of your spine. His hands slip under the material to glide across your naked skin, and you startle at the caress up the curve and dip of your waist, light and quick, enough to draw a giggle from you.

The rest of your clothes quickly get lost on the floor, both of you now filled with an eager impulse, hands impatient to get at more bared skin.

Your arms come up to circle around his neck, pulling his mouth down for a kiss as you slowly back him towards the bed and when the mattress hits the back of his knees and he sinks down you follow, fitting yourself to him with your legs thrown either side of his lap. Like this his cock is pressed up against your lower belly, and he shudders at the feeling of your warm body pressed against every part of him.

You brush his bangs from his forehead and press a kiss there and his heart does funny things in his chest.

More kisses follow thick and fast as you rock gently against his arousal, grinning at the gasp the movement pulls from his lips. It’s the most uncontrolled sound you’ve ever heard from him. The slide of heated flesh is easy with what he can only assume is your wetness.  He’s so hard it hurts, but… Now he is here, faced with the very real opportunity to have sex with you, he feels so out of his depth, so young and clumsy. His heart jumping in his chest painfully hard as you press trails of fiery kisses down the line of his neck, sucking skin into your mouth and watching with interest as it turns red. His back is ramrod straight, like a soldier at attention and its then that you notice that the hands on your waist are shaking slightly. You frown into his collarbone and pull back so you can see Akaashi’s face.

His expressions are always slight but you can see uncertainty in his eyes, the colour high in his cheeks. His eyelids flutter down, gaze on the floor, and he speaks before you have a chance to.

“I don’t know what I am doing.”

His body is unnaturally still as he says it, like a puppy waiting to be scolded. You hum, trying not to think his uncertainty is cute. Or at least, focusing on keeping that thought off your face. Akaashi never really seems to ever be unsure, renowned for being capable and calm even when he was small. So this is new territory for both of you. How to comfort him…

You disregard the fact that you really just want to bite and lick down his delicious body, and sit back slightly, hands coming up to massage the nape of his neck, smiling when he lets slip that familiar pleased murmur at the feeling.

When you think about it perhaps this is not so unexpected. Akaashi is the type of person who likes to know the rules before he plays the game so to speak. Your hands smooth down to his shoulders, still loosening the tension in his muscles as you think about how to reassure him.

“What do you want to do? Just do that. You don’t have to be anxious. It’s just me.”

“I’m anxious because it’s you.”

It’s a big admission for someone who hates being vulnerable as much as Akaashi does. His anxiousness spikes as the words slip out of his mouth before he can think better of it. What’s wrong with him today? An uncomfortable swirling mass has found a home in his belly as he disregards all your good work on his knots and tenses up even more than before.

Your eyes are definitely not slightly damp at that admittance, no way.

“Come here.”

He folds easily, head resting in the crook of your neck, shivering at the pleasant feeling of your nails lightly scratching down his sides. He closes his eyes and listens to your breathing, trying to match his to yours.

“Talk to me,” you breathe into his hair, delighted by the feel of his racing pulse as you press your bodies together.

You can hear his swallow before he speaks, “I’m not going to last long, and it probably won’t feel very good for you.”

You laugh and he stiffens in your arms. Immediately you register your mistake and smooth your hands down his neck to the base of his spine in apology. The laughter stays in your voice and Akaashi realises it’s more happiness and then humour. You’re not laughing at him.

“This isn’t an exam Akaashi-kun, you don’t get marked on this. I’m just happy you’re here with me and anything else is a bonus.”

Akaashi pulls backs, gaze reluctantly meeting yours. He frowns at your unconcerned expression.

“But there is such thing as a good lover and a bad lover.”

You’re caught between wanting to coo at how cute he is being in his seriousness, and cutting off anymore of his misgivings by shoving him on to his back and having your way with him. You do neither. The first because he wouldn’t appreciate you patronizing him, and the other because you are not about to have sex with someone who isn’t completely sure they want to be there.

Both of your hands come up to squeeze his face between your palms and you smile as he seems to relax slightly at your touch.

“’Lover’, heh, I think you’re the only person I know who uses that word under 40.”

Akaashi’s gaze doesn’t waver. Neither does he mirror your lopsided grin.

“I’m being serious.”

You raise your eyebrow, keeping your surprise at the depth of his anxiety under a smooth expression.

“So am I. I’m not worried. There is also a thing called _practice_ Akaashi-kun, and we will practice, extensively.” You can’t help but lose your seriousness at the end, a salacious grin curling across your lips and mischief sparking in your eyes.

Akaashi doesn’t say anything for a time, just taking in your expression and the truthfulness he finds there. You’re not one to lie, and he trusts you. He nods, “Okay.”

You peel yourself off him and crawl over to the head of the bed, crooking a finger in case he doesn’t get the message.

He pauses, his cheeks pinking alarmingly fast as a thought seems to occur to him.

“If I…don’t… make you come can you…” Akaashi makes a vague gesture at your lower half, his ears fire-truck red.

You smile crookedly, shrugging. “Sure.”

Akaashi nods again, satisfied, and you make a frustrated noise, waving him over.

“Now get over here.”

He shuffles over to you, easing himself into the space between your legs. His face is serious, perhaps a little too serious for you.

You slap his butt, giggling at his shocked expression and making exaggerated kisses faces till he slants his lips across yours with an incredulous smile. But that doesn’t matter because his body is more relaxed then it has been since he followed you into your room.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I thought I was beautiful and wonderful?”

“I take it back.”

You give a mock outraged sound, pressing a hand over your heart in an act of great offense.

“How dare you Akaashi-kun. I’ll have you know I’m only here because you look so pretty naked.”

The last half is whispered into his ear in a voice of dark honey as your fingers run up the back of his arms to curl around his shoulders.

“Oh? I thought you loved me.”

“Oh no, nothing like that.”

“That’s a shame.” You can feel Akaashi’s smile as he presses fervent kisses to your neck. “I love you.”

He doesn’t last long, as he had predicted. It’s so unbearably hot and tight inside of you, the thin rubber of the condom doing nothing to keep his release at bay when you meet his thrusts and sigh his name into his ear. Your stiletto clad feet crossed behind his back. Professing your love in a broken whisper as he pants against your chest, spent and just a little embarrassed.

When he can keep his eyes open for long enough to roll off you to the side, he props his head on his hands and looks at you expectantly.

You snort a laugh and Akaashi shifts uncomfortably, but that doesn’t matter because your hands are gliding down your body till they reach your core. You know yourself well and Akaashi takes mental notes the entire time thinking, _“Soon, soon.”_

You come with his name on your lips and he has to kiss you for that, again and again till you’re both gasping. You spread your legs and he takes you again, slower this time. Trying to keep his wits about him as you murmur encouragement and gentle instructions, “Like that Akaashi-kun, just like that. Touch me here. That’s perfect.”

He gets hopeful when you start squirming against him, your groans louder than the first time, but his release creeps up on him as you get tighter and tighter and begin to scratch down his back.

You coo as he shudders through his release, his eyes scrunched closed against the burst of pleasure. Smiling at your ceiling in the semi-darkness as Akaashi clings to you, sucking in rugged breaths against your shoulder while he comes down from the high.

“Sorry.”

You wave away his apology with a kiss to his hair. “It’s fine. You have such a cute come face Akaashi-kun, I could get used to seeing that.”

Akaashi doesn’t say anything but he does grimace slightly, his grip on your hips tightening.

“Stop worrying,” you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear.

“I’m not,” he lies. Shifting so his back is against the mattress and tugging you towards him by the wrist.

“Uh-huh.” You comply without calling him on it, tucking yourself against his side and sighing happily as his fingers trickle down the dips in your spine. You smile at his bare chest, running your fingertips lightly over his breastbone, then lower, admiring the way the muscles in his stomach clench slightly at your touch. Akaashi can’t help it, he feels jumpy and keyed up having you right her with him, gloriously naked, surrounded by your scent. It’s better than any half-baked fantasy he’s ever thought up in his life. The best part is the expression on your face as you lock gazes with him. Like you’re thinking the same thoughts he is.

“Akaashi.”

“Hm?”

“Kiss me.”

He does, and it’s the best mix of sweet and sensual. With your legs tangled together and his hand stroking your face affectionately.

“Stay here tonight,” you murmur against his lips. Lulled by his kisses and the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He doesn't actually have anywhere to _go_ right now, excluding the sofa downstairs, but he doesn't think that would be romantic to say so he doesn't mention it.

He watches you drift off with his heart in his eyes. There’s a smear of mascara under your eyelashes and your lipstick, so precise at the start of the night, has faded from each touch against a glass rim and his kisses. Your hair is mussed at the back of your head from the pillows. You’ve never looked so beautiful. That’s his last thought before he succumbs to sleep beside you. His heart singing with the possibilities now stretched out before of him. Life is good.


	23. With friends like these (Oikawa Tooru)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends!  
> I'm back with another start to a thread and this time it's the grandking himself! More underage drinking because wtf Japan 21?  
> Feel free to tell me your fav threads and any inspirations you might have for me and I will see what I can do :) I'm nearly on holidays so after the next three weeks of pretty much constant test I should be able to bang out a whole lot more.

 

_> I’m sorry if this is completely out of the blue but with all of the stuff happening in my life right now I just can’t carry on a relationship. Trust me you don’t want to have to deal with my shit right now. Thank you for everything.<_

You’re sitting in quite possibly the most uncomfortable seat on campus, gaze on no particular point to your right as you try to drag up the enthusiasm for another semester of this shit.

God you shouldn’t be thinking like this; You’ve only been a student for one.

With an inner sigh you boot up your banged up laptop, typing up today's date with a grimace.

It’s on this unassuming Monday morning that your peaceful existence as a student fresh out of high school is disrupted with an upbeat exclamation that has no place in this nine o’clock lecture.

“Ah! _You_. I remember you!”

In the seconds it takes you to swivel in your seat in search of the source of the voice your brain has time to process the following things: You don’t have any friends here so who the hell is speaking to you? Two, you’ve been told on multiple occasions you’re about as welcoming as a punch in the face, so who the hell is speaking to you? Three, who the hell is speaking to you? And then finally - _fuck_ …..you know that voice.

Sure enough Oikawa Tooru is suspended in the act of sitting in the seat beside you with comically wide eyes. You frown at the bright purple pen he has pointed at your face, debating over whether he will mind if you throw it into the next row, preferably at the head of the girl currently giving Oikawa googly eyes.

 A wide grin lights up Oikawa face in the manner of a lottery winner. “You’re the girl from last night!”

_You sigh as you lean against the kitchen counter of a person you barely know. The contents of your cup sloshing around as two girls run past, bumping into you as they engage in some pretty impressive heavy petting. You frown at the darker patch now splotched down the front of your jumper before shrugging and throwing back the rest of your drink. Pushing past the two furiously tongue-fucking each other to the small respite of the open balcony door._

_Even here you can’t escape the pounding of the base. How the host managed to pay of the neighbours to keep quiet you have no idea._

_Giving up on the search for a quiet space you mooch back inside, intent on grabbing your stuff in the upstairs bedroom and leaving, mission be damned. And you would have too, if it wasn’t for almost tripping on the semi-comatose guy sprawled on the staircase landing._

_Your voice is nervous as you bend over his body, trying to make sure your words are heard over the sound of students celebrating, or perhaps mourning, the last day of the university break._

  _“Um, are you okay?”_

_The apparently not-so-comatose guy looks up at the sound of your voice and you almost gasp._

_He looks about your age, eyes unfocused and bloodshot, brown hair matted with sweat and mused on one side from where it made contact with the carpet. His button down is rumpled and he has inexplicably lost one of his shoes. Despite all of this he is stupidly attractive. Gorgeous even. What an asshole._

_You make a startled noise as large hands come up to grab your collar, pulling you into a tear-filled embrace. You grimace as you notice the trails of snot he is leaving on your jumper._

_“I’m so lonely! Kana-chan cheated on me! Iwa-chan has abandoned me-.” At this point this ridiculously pretty boy seems to get so choked up with emotion he can no longer go on. Letting you go and falling back against the wall with a wail of anguish._

_“Um….okay…”_

_Wow, consoling people is really not your thing. People are not your thing. You feel hot and uncomfortable and you would really rather be at home with your Netflicks account. You shrug out of your alcohol, tear and snot covered jumper to at least eliminate one thing making you uncomfortable. That done, you look back to find the guy squinting at you, obviously trying to bring you into focus. His gaze travels from your face down to your chest, then back up in quite possibly the most obvious manner you have ever seen in your life. His voice is slurred. “You’re quite pretty you know? I’m Oikawa Tooru, you may have heard of me.”_

_Oikawa grins, flashing pearly white teeth and winking obnoxiously. He’s obviously forgotten his emotional outburst earlier. He drapes himself over your shoulder with a voice gone low in a way that you assume is supposed to be enticing, but its ruined by the fact that he is starting to look a bit green around the gills “What do you say? Will you keep me company?”_

_You grimace, nudging him off your shoulder. Cursing this whole stupid plan of yours and the tight, keyhole dress you randomly decided you could pull off when you were getting dressed that evening._

_“I’m good thanks, do you want a drink of water?”_

_Oikawa ignores your question, seeming to take your rejection in his stride._

_“Playing hard to get I see! I like a challenge, you wait, soon you will-“_

_You never find out what you will be doing, or saying or whatever it is this Oikawa Tooru had meant to say because at that precise moment he lurches forward and throws up all over your shoes with a disgusting retching sound._

_You manage to half carry, half drag the moaning, somewhat prone form of Oikawa from the stairwell to the bathroom. No mean feat as from what you can make out he is about six foot of solid muscle. Unfortunately, by the time you have shooed away the couple dry humping against the vanity Oikawa has managed to puke all over himself too, and you’re left wondering how the fuck you managed to lump yourself with the charity case of the night. There goes your great master plan._

_Oikawa clutches at the toilet bowl likes it’s a life line, interspersing a sob story about being too busy for his girlfriend and the painful break down of their relationship with the occasional lunge forwards to puke up all the alcohol poisoning his system. You’re left to pat his back and make forced soothing noises._

_When he’s finished his story and hasn’t been sick for ten minutes you decide to bundle him onto the washroom stool and peel away his sick stained shirt with squeamish fingers. It’s a lost cause so you leave momentarily to chuck it in the bin and grab a t-shirt from the host, before re-entering the bathroom to find Oikawa still sitting on the plastic stool and blinking hazily. You're once again struck by how bloody attractive this guy is. Now that his shirt is gone you can see why he was so damn heavy. The guy is built. Not exactly bulky, but fit, all hard muscle rolling together under annoyingly perfect skin to create the most attractive person you have ever seen. Again you muse over the fact that he must be devastating at his peak, when he’s not sticky with sweat and smelling like cheap vodka that is._

_You deliberate for a moment, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip. “Um Oikawa? Do you want to wash yourself, or do you just want to put this on?” You hold up the t-shirt, “because You kinda stink of puke so…”_

_Oikawa nods vaguely, standing up and swaying hard enough that you rush over to hold his shoulders to keep him steady. To your astonishment you hear the chink of metal and can only watch with wide eyes as Oikawa works his jeans down his long legs, stepping out of them with one hand absentmindedly on your waist._

_“Um….Oikawa this isn’t –_ Keep those on _!”_

_Oikawa stumbles as your hands leave his shoulders to grab at his boxers, hiking them back up to preserve his modestly with burning cheeks._

_“Would you hurry up in the -oh.” You crane your head behind you to see a girl with a ponytail backing out of the room with an uncomfortable expression._

_“This isn’t what –oh for fuck sakes.”_

_You turn back as the door bangs shut, shooting Oikawa a glare. You’re about ready to scream. You push at his shoulders till he sits back onto the stool and grab the shower hose, thrusting it under his nose like a knife and hissing at him with slitted eyes._

_“Just sit there quietly and try not to be even more of a nuisance, if you think you can manage that.”_

_Oikawa gives a small burp in reply, giggling at your shocked expression. It’s enough to make you want to bash him across the side of the head. Exercising praiseworthy self-control, you simply turn on the water at the wall, checking the temperature under your hand before you turn the stream on him._

You flick the pen pointed at your face to the side with an ugly look.

“I’m surprised you do remember me after all the booze you drank dipshit.” If there’s one thing you pride yourself on, It’s the ability to deliver a cool insult. It has most people you interact with backing away slowly but Oikawa only pretends to swoon, drawing the gaze of several people and making you uncomfortable.

“How cruel! I thought we were friends.”

Your smile is brittle as you attempt to match his intentionally charming grin, your eyes narrow dangerously.

“Oh really? What’s my name then?”

Oikawa’s smile falters slightly. “It’s….er.”

You raise your eyebrows coolly at him but make no attempt to help him out as the lecturer calls the class to order.

When you’re packing up afterwards Oikawa spins towards you, hand outstretched and silly grin plastered on his face.

“Let’s be friends.”

You stare at his offered hand, then his face. Something about his smile pisses you off on instinct. Pointedly you turn back to packing without a word. Oikawa just laughs.

“I guess we don’t need rituals like this, after all were already friends aren’t we? We got so close last night.”

You want to leave but he is blocking the row, and you can’t get past him unless you start scaling the desk, which incidentally is becoming a more attractive course of action by the minute. Strangely enough you can’t help but meet his gaze, words spilling from your mouth in an angry wave.

“Friendship works two ways, and you haven’t done anything to make me remotely interested in being your friend. I did something for you by making sure you didn’t drown in a pile of your own vomit. But low and behold I didn’t find that very fun.”

Oikawa looks taken aback for a second before his smile rallies again. “But you did get to wash my naked body, I’m sure you enjoyed that. I have it on good authority that I am ravishingly good looking.”

You had kinda enjoy that part, but he doesn’t need to know that. Besides the more you talk to this infuriating character the closer you are getting to sticking your pen up his nose.

“It’s too bad your personality is about as ravishingly good looking as a shit stain.”

You don’t give him time to reply, pushing him with your elbow so he is practically bent backwards over the line of desks behind you so you have room to stride out of your row, ducking between two roughhousing guys to make it out of the lecture hall Oikawa free.

For half a second you’re blissfully calm. But it doesn’t take long before you’re sighing heavily. Something tells you this is only the beginning.

You were right to think that. He’s there every Monday, annoyingly chipper and handsome while you’re downing coffee by the bucket load. It starts out with only that hellish nine o’clock lecture but somehow spills into your break time, then your study session in the library, then after classes at the food court down the road. Whoever told him your name is going to pay, because now his excited “[Name]-chan!” has become a constant in the soundtrack of your life. At first you’re begrudging and suspicious, but it turns out Oikawa is as stubborn as you are and he somehow manages to have you moving your stuff off the chair closest to you whenever he turns up.

He still constantly annoys you, and you still hurl insults at him, but they lose their bite and become, dare you say it, even playful sometimes. It’s undeniable that the two of you have somehow fallen into being friends, and you can’t say you really dislike it.

“Bubble tea after class?”

You hum in agreement, trying to stuff your over-priced textbook into your bag, in a hurry because you are holding up the rest of the people in your row.

“You know it’s still a wonder to me that you of all people like pink, decorative drinks” Oikawa smiles at you fondly as he waits, and you sniff and ignore him, cheeks flushing only slightly. “I like to think it is because it fuels [Name]-chan’s secret romantic side with all that surgery goodness”

“Whatever you say.”

Both of you have an hour gap between classes and like clockwork you fall into step beside each other and make your way to the library. Oikawa cheers when you manage to snag the comfortable squishy sofa-chairs in one corner, flopping down with a silly grin on his face and patting the seat of the chair next to him.

You sit with a huff he unfortunately knows is just for show, arranging your books on your lap and curling up like a cat to read the latest chapter of your set text.

Oikawa does the same, but you finish much earlier than he does because of the stream of people who stop to talk to him or get his number. There’s also the constant little _ping_ alerts on his phone.

Oikawa is popular, you can’t have a face and a body like his and not be. But you don’t mind. He never fails to ask you along to his social events every Saturday, and you never fail to decline. More intent on that new book you can’t put down or binging your new favourite series. It’s likely he’s going out this weekend and you ask him as much, flipping to the next chapter to get ahead.

“No, I have a date”

“Oh?”

You know for a fact Oikawa hasn't "dated" since Kana, but maybe that is just his candid way of framing one of his many hook ups.

“Yea, with you. I’ve been your friend for almost three months, it’s a crime I haven’t seen your dorm room, you’ve seen mine.”

You try to stifle your smile as you remember the space inspired bedclothes tossed into a careless mound. That was the first time you had laughed in front of him, tears springing to your eyes as you haltingly asked him if he honestly brought girls back to have sex with them on a galaxy print bed. Oikawa had gotten all sulky after that.

“This is honestly more whimsical then I had imagined for you” Oikawa says in an offhanded way as he takes in your dorm room. You sit down on your bed with a shrug, clutching your watermelon and strawberry bubble tea to your chest.  You’re acting nonchalant but you kinda get what he means. The fairy lights wound through the head of your bed, the glass jars with cacti growing inside them crowding your tiny window, the glass ornament above them throwing tiny rainbows at random intervals over the walls, the conspicuous row of plushies on the top of your wardrobe. None of these things really go with your constant resting bitchface, but that’s never really fazed you before, so you’re not gonna let it start to now.

Oikawa moves across the tiny space to peruse your bursting bookshelf with interest. His eyes resting for a moment on a framed photo of you at Disney world with a smiling boy who has his arm around your shoulders.

On your bed you tense, waiting for the inevitable question but when Oikawa turns all he says is, “What’s this? These are all romances [Name]-chan. Do you want to be swept of your feet by a gallant hero?”

“I like them, shut up.”

Oikawa only grins wider, dodging the pillow you throw his way and striking a ridiculous pose “Don’t I look like a gallant hero from one of [Name]-chan’s books? What light through yonder window breaks-"

"Oi! I said shut up.”

Oikawa whines your name in protest, and when you only roll your eyes in response Oikawa snatches a book at random and plonks himself down on your bed like he owns the place, arranging your pillows so they are comfortable behind his taller body and perusing through his chosen novel with an interest you find disconcerting. You stand up and kick off your shoes by the door, pulling out your textbooks from your bag and grimacing when you find a squashed muesli bar at the bottom.. You’re interrupted in your disposal of it by Oikawa, who snickers loudly, and when you look up at him with raised eyebrows he simply clears his throat and begins to read out loud in a low voice, “It was the height of impropriety, that he was touching her like this. His hands caressing her naked skin as she melted against him, her very being aching for him, as she too began to rid him of his smallclothes. Her shaking fingers speed on by the heat of her desir—Ow!”

“You had it coming,” you say, tone completely void of sympathy as you slot the book back into your shelf. Ignoring Oikawa as he pouts and rubs his head.

“Naughty [Name]-chan, veerry naughty.”

“Whatever you say.”

When you turn back you deliberate as to whether you should sit on your desk chair or join him on the bed. Not wanting him to see your slight blush. Fooling around or not Oikawa is undeniably sexy and it’s making you nervous all of a sudden. Evidently you take too long in your dithering because Oikawa gives you a funny look and pats the space next to him with his eyebrows raised slightly. “I promise I won’t do anything that would be considered 'the height of impropriety’”.

“Oh shut up.” Flushing you grab your pile of textbooks and sit; nudging him over none-to-gently with your shoulder to make room on your single mattress. You ignore his little whine at your rough treatment, spreading your workbooks in front of your crossed legs so you can see all the corresponding pages at once. Paying no attention as Oikawa clearly decides studying for your upcoming progress test is a waste of his time, and pulls out his phone to scroll mindlessly through the hours, sometimes tilting the phone towards you, giggling at funny animal pictures.

When you next look up you’re startled to find the digital clock by your bed announcing the time to be 8:35pm and when you turn to say as much to Oikawa beside you it’s only to find him curled up around a pillow and breathing deeply.

After looking around nervously as if you expect someone to be peeking through the keyhole or some shit, you take the opportunity to study his face. He really is just ridiculously pretty. His eyelashes are so long; his lips are adorably pouted in his sleep, and his hair! Lord only knows you’ve never seen hair that looks that soft. Crap. Now that you’re thinking about it you can’t, not touch it. It’s supposed to be just a quick pat, just to see if it really is as soft as it looks, but it turns into a ruffle, then a caress that has him shifting in his sleep with a little hum. You pull back your hand with a squeak, your heart pounding abnormally fast.

When he doesn’t wake your heart leaves your mouth, and you frown at his peaceful expression, annoyed he had managed to provoke such a strong reaction in you at all. Why did it matter if he caught you playing with his hair? You could always stomp out any delusions on his side that the gesture might create with a well-aimed textbook to the gut. You’re not the one with the warped, conclusion-jumping mind. So why are you feeling so jittery?  

You feel like if you just meditated on this a little more you’d find the answer, and if your completely honest with yourself it’s already wriggling at the back of your mind. But in your typical fashion, you shove that potentially flammable topic away and choose the easy way out.

When Oikawa wakes up it’s to the smell of wedges and cheese and something that might be bread. His eyes flicker open as his stomach grumbles, turning over in an unfamiliar bed, disorientated until he catches sight of you on your beanbag in front of a veritable feast of greasy goodness.

Your eyes flicker over to his briefly before you’re zeroed in on the laptop on your thighs playing some show he doesn’t know.

Oikawa sits up, self-consciously swiping the back of his hand over his mouth and cringing when it comes away slightly damp. Luckily you don’t seem to notice, or at least don’t comment.

“Hungry?”

“You have no idea.”

Oikawa joins you on the floor with a happy grin, immediately reaching for a slice of pizza, and shuffling closer to you so he can see the laptop screen over your shoulder. He notices the barely perceptible shift into stiffness as his chin meets the scratchy material covering your shoulder, and it is with mixed emotions that he quietly sits up straighter, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

You seem down, he doesn’t know how he knows it, but it’s definitely there. A tightness to your mouth, the tiniest crease between your brows. Your usually clear, intelligent eyes far away. Though you’re both watching the screen he can tell you’re not seeing the same things.

He chews his pizza thoughtfully, musing about how to best bring you out of your funk. Luckily you do most of the work for him with your next question.

“Wanna have a sleepover?”

Oikawa looks around your little room, at the piles of uneaten food, your notably single sized bed, then back to your face. “What right now?”

_“Your father and I have decided to separate”_

_You look down at your hands as they play with your seatbelt, out the window, anywhere that isn’t your mothers face. “Don’t tell your brothers yet, we need to do it at the right time, and in the right way.”_

_Were you somehow exempt from this right way? You promise you won’t, and the rest of the drive home is uneventful. At least on the surface._

_Good. That had been your first thought when the words had left her mouth. And then; it’s about damn time. After that is simply the sick feeling of being at the edge of a precipice, facing a great black cloud of the unknown. Everything will be different now._

“Well it’s already late, and I have face masks we could try, we could even paint our nails.” Oikawa’s mood lifts as your lips do. Happy to go along with your plan as long as you keep looking like that. Teasing and content to talk nonsense with him.

When you’ve both polished off all the food, and cleared away the rubbish, Oikawa laughing at your rant about how he can eat so damn much and still be fit, you spend the rest of the night giggling as you use the sheet masks you got online, taking selfies because you can’t stop thinking you both look like serial killers. Oikawa even tries to paint your toenails, getting more and more frustrated as your feet get progressively bluer. He doesn’t like being bad at things, even if it is something as minor as this, but he can’t feel irked for long because you are happy, and smiling, miles away from the pensive girl he woke up to.

He decides that he doesn’t mind being laughed at if it means you are happy.

_You have to suffer through your parents’ childish battles, hear them speaking badly of each other, hear them delighting in the ‘winning’ of every little point they refuse to compromise on, as if this is a game they are discussing and not your life._

_You have to hear the words “your father” “your mother” when they speak about each other, as if they were never married, never in love, and it’s your fault they have to keep minimal contact at all._

When you drift off beside him Oikawa decides one other thing. You’ve got the cutest sleeping face he has ever seen. Your usually harsh, suspicious expression softens. He delights in all of the expressions he has seen of you, but this one is new. He’s never seen you so unguarded.

When he had first seen you, you were wary, then surprisingly comforting, but his memories of that night are fuzzy at best. You’ve been attractive to him since then, how could you not be in your clingy dress? But that first day in class was when he realised that you were beautiful. Spitting insults at him with your eyes flashing and cheeks flushed. It’s one of the only times you’ve been so honest about your emotions in his presence. Until tonight that is, where you had laughed long and freely.

He shuffles a little closer to your warmth, slightly cold in his boxers, and the baggy pink t-shirt you had insisted on him wearing, blushing the entire time. He’s careful to keep himself on his side of the bed, shivering at the memory of the death glare you had sent him while explaining that to cross the middle line was inviting a certain modification of one of his most prized body parts.

Admittedly keeping to his side is tough to do in a bed as small as yours but he gives it his best shot. After half an hour of mediating on your soft expression and whatever else decides to waltz into his head he realises it’s going to be one of _those_ night. Where his brain throws up embarrassing memories he thought he had repressed, or wanders to the weirdest places. His eyes flick over to the picture on your bookcase. Boyfriend? He doesn’t think so, you’ve never mentioned one, but then, he’s never asked.

The thought fills him with an anguish that is surprising. It’s not like he’s known you for _that_ long all things considered. Sure he is attracted to you, right from the very moment he laid hazy, beer-goggled eyes on you he has been, and if you gave him the go ahead there’s no way in hell he would say no. But he hasn’t dated since Kana and he’d come to the conclusion that dating wasn’t for him right now. It just doesn’t fit in with his lifestyle. So why does the smiling boy with his arm around you make his stomach spike with jealousy?

Oikawa’s not stupid, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why.

Oikawa rolls onto his back, hands coming up to cover his eyes as he groans out a curse. This is just what he needed.

_You sit on your bed staring at the phone sitting innocently on your duvet in front of your knees. You should do it quickly, like ripping off a band aid. You’ve thought this through many times. The first warning had been when you had started getting irritated by his daily texts. Scrambling for things to say about your day, and how to keep sounding preppy and upbeat. Because who wanted to hang out with the sullen, closed off girl. Um, no one._

_Putting on makeup before every meeting was tiresome, watching your language was annoying. But you couldn’t suddenly change when you had done your best to create this image. For all your gruffness you know how to work people, you know what makes them tick. You’re also good at figuring out what they like._

_He kisses you, quick and chaste and bashful, then blushes. You smile back but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You’re bored. Does that make you a shitty person? You got on so well in the beginning, talking about your favourite Tv shows and books, so why were you no longer remembering his opinions on the things you talked about then? He remembers yours. But somehow that just makes the whole thing more annoying._

_It's claustrophobic, it’s stifling, but every night you think, “Well maybe this is just it, maybe this is what it’s like for everyone."_

_You frown at your piles of books, books filled with passionate embraces and words of love spoken in whispers, almost too precious to be said out loud._

_You thought all this would have been a bit more…..just… more._

_You’re crying when you send the text, even though you have thought this through, even though it’s best for everyone. Your dads finally moved out but you know this is just the beginning. Maybe that’s why you are crying so hard. You’re cutting off someone who might be able, even for a few hours, take you out of this nightmare. There’s no way you are willing to open up about how fucked up your family life is right now. You’d never drag someone into it. But a spike of horror still jolts through you as “message sent” pops up on your screen. No going back now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished! There is quiet a lot of backstory to unpack for this one so rest assured I will be teasing that out in later chapters. I tried to play around with story and discourse narrative time for this one so hopefully that went okay. Till next time!


	24. I knew this would be love (Sugawara Koushi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck it's almost two in the morning, yall better appreciate.  
> Thank you all so much for your lovely comments and patience. You're all so lovely and supportive.  
> This one's super fluffy coz Suga deserves the world and it's full of smut because that's what we are all here for. ;)  
> Without further ado enjoy the update and look out for more chapters to come :)  
> Chapter title from "I knew this would be love" by Imaginary future which I listened to on repeat while writing this. <3  
> This chapter has been Beta read by the lovely L1n :)

You’re slowly brought to consciousness by the growing brightness beating down on your eyelids. You stir, lifting your head and opening your bleary eyes, only to be blinded by a strip of sunlight peeking between the curtains. With a soft groan, you roll onto your stomach, suddenly aware of his weight across your naked body. Sugawara starts awake as you roll away, his lithe arm slung around you tightening its grip, unconsciously pulling you closer.

You smile to yourself and listen to the sounds of Suga stirring to wakefulness, his breath hot against your ear as he presses his hips closer and twines his legs with yours.

“Good morning,” you murmur, stretching out your arms in front of you, and sighing at the satisfying pop of the joints in your wrist.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Suga replies, his voice still raspy from sleep, brushing his thumb along the underside of your breast and kissing your neck. “Mrs Sugawara.”

You roll onto your back, completely at ease with your nakedness as Suga bends to nuzzle his face along your shoulder up to your neck, his hands gliding over your waist and hips.

“My wife,” Suga whispers against your skin, moving to kiss down between your breasts. 

“My lovely wife.” He sounds almost giddy in his happiness.

“It sounds so weird,” you muse, softly scratching through his hair, watching with a small smile as Suga’s eyes squint in pleasure at the feeling.

“Does it? I happen to like the way it sounds. Kindergarten-Koushi would have wet himself if he could see me now.”

You laugh softly, and Suga leans down to kiss you, smiles, then kisses you again, and you sigh into his mouth as he gently intertwines his tongue with your own.  You’re tired from the wedding and the rounds of sex you had last night but you can feel your body responding despite yourself. Locking your arms around his neck and kissing him back with everything you have. 

You’re quite young to be a bride, only 23 and fresh out of university, both working entry level jobs and trying to make ends meet. When you were a child you hadn’t pictured happiness to be a cramped apartment or late night takeout on Friday nights when you’re both exhausted, watching late night Tv on your second-hand sofa. It’s simple and comfortable. Shopping for groceries together, right before the store closes so you can get last minute deals, bringing each other tea and coffee in bed, lazy morning sex on Sundays.

On the rare occasions that your past comes back to haunt you, nightmares jolting you awake, you have a warm body to cuddle up to as you calm your racing heart. Love hasn’t miraculously ‘cured’ you, but it helps, because someone is willing to hold your hand through the bad nights. Because he stayed with you even after seeing you at your worst, you’ve managed to build this from the ground up. This little bubble where happiness is in the small, everyday things.

Suga’s fingers slide down your bare stomach to your sensitive core, coaxing you to wetness with practiced ease. You follow his lead happily, spreading your legs wider and tipping your head back to catch his kisses, mewling softly against his lips when his fingers start up a familiar rhythm on your clit. He brings you to climax with lazy gradualness, smiling indulgently the entire time. He purrs as your legs shake, moaning his name into the back of your hand. Suga gathers you up into his arms while you catch your breath, body rocked by small aftershocks of pleasure. The feel of your body pressed against him makes his knees weak, hard from just watching you because it’s  _ you _ , responding to him. Gloriously naked and confident. Moving now that you have regained control over your limbs. You push him back against the pillows and straddle his lap, and he wastes no time grasping your hips, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip in anticipation.

You take his length into your hand, marvelling at his hardness, and guide him to your entrance, lowering yourself till you take his cock all the way to the base. Sugawara sighs happily when you sit flush against him, enjoying the feeling of your velvety walls encasing his cock and your hands on his chest as you plaster yourself against his body, eyes bright and trained on your face like he sees the whole world there.

“I love you.”

“Well that’s good because you’re stuck with me now,” you say with a wry smirk and raised eyebrows.

You feel his laugh rumble through his chest as you lean forward to kiss his forehead. It seems like your smile is just going to stay on your face today.

Suga’s laugh turns into a groan as you begin to move, taking all of his cock inside of your wet heat on each roll of your hips. He murmurs against your lips, low and throaty, “I can’t think of anything better.”

You sit back up so you can move easier and Suga watches you through heavy lidded eyes, enthralled by the slow, rocking movement of your body, and your expression of bliss, love and pleasure turning your cheeks rosy in the late morning sunlight.

His hands kneed your thighs and hips. So soft, so perfect. You moan, and it’s the most erotic thing possible because it’s you, who accepted him, who chose him, who stayed with him, even for those years apart when he moved cities for university.

It had been hard, and there had been times when he had thought he had lost you. Phone calls that had ended in frosty silence. Both too tired and stressed to curb your mood for the other person. Weeks without skype calls or visits when assessments piled up. At its worst you had completely dropped off his radar, ignoring his texts and calls, and he had been hit with such an overwhelming terror at the possibility that he had fucked everything up that he had taken the train into the next prefecture with apologies falling off his tongue and tears in his eyes. That very night you had spent researching apartments, talking into the small hours of the morning about your future together wrapped in your duvet, legs tangled together with your laptop balanced on your knees.

You flick his forehead lightly, voice gently chiding. “Where are you going off to in your head when your wife is making love to you?”

Suga smiles brilliantly, arms cradling your body as he flips you over onto your back and presses himself close.

“Just thinking.” Suga smiles against your throat, breathing in your scent and sighing happily as your fingers card through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. “Do you remember that night when I surprised you in your dorm room?”

Your reply is prompt. “In first year? Of course.”

* * *

 

It's the midpoint of the semester, you're mess, fretting about your relationship with one of the most beautiful boys in Japan, _without you_ in the next prefecture, probably stealing hearts every time he smiled, and the test you had in two days, all while writing an essay in an angst ridden, redbull fuelled daze.

Suga waltzes into your room smiling like the sun, takes one look at your bloodshot eyes, and promptly stages an intervention. He takes you out to a local onsen, even shelling out his hard-earned cash from his part-time job for a small, private bath and room when you nod, both of you blushing up to your ears at the patrons knowing gaze, and the prospect of being bare before each other for the first time. Your mortification only grows as the frail old woman at the counter not so subtly slips Suga a handful of foil packets with a stern look.

You’re so beautiful. Bashful and naked beside him in the water, neither of you speak until he catches your eye, and you both explode into giggles at your mutual awkwardness. He tucks you into his side, pressing his lips to your hair as you get some much-needed relaxation in his embrace, lulled into a stupor by the warmth of the water and his hands running chaste patterns on the bare skin of your back. With your eyes closed Suga uses the opportunity to let his gaze feast on your naked body, even as his hands never stray from your back. It’s a struggle to push away the heat of his arousal bubbling away under his calm façade. But he’s determined not to force you into anything, or even create a mood where you feel obliged to do anything you aren’t ready for. And for all the struggle, it’s nice to know you trust him enough to relax like this.

You don’t use the gold foil packets that night. Not until two months later when you see him again, but you do sleep together, in the literal sense, goosebumps erupting across your skin as Suga’s arms loosely curl around your waist, the rapid beat of his heart, like the wings of a small bird, obvious even to your ears as you shuffle closer to tuck your head against his chest.

In the morning, you watch him doze with your chin resting on your hand, appreciating the way his striped yukata has come loose, bearing a long strip of pale chest to your gaze. You run your fingers down the exposed skin, smiling as Suga twitches and snuffles in his sleep, brow furrowing just slightly.

You can pinpoint the exact moment when a small thread of arousal begins to tighten your lower belly, sparking between your legs as your eyes run over his body.

During those next two months apart, that small thread had bloomed into an ache, a longing, a need that kept you up on nights when you couldn’t sleep, your hand inevitably finding its way under your sheets. Your mind full of the beauty of his naked body, gathered from your shy side-ways glances in the onsen.

Suga had been no better off. Fading out in lectures as he daydreamed about the exact curve of your waist under his hand, or the softness of your breasts pressed against his chest.

In the following short midterm break, when he had made love to you for the first time he discovered to his delight that his fantasies had been paltry things in comparison to the true extent of your beauty.

It starts with you sitting in his lap, legs dangling down by the back of his desk-chair with your face tucked into his neck. Clinging onto him like a large, warm, sleepy koala, tired from your journey up his way. Sugawara continues to work at his desk, one hand stroking down your back as he hums absentmindedly, checking and rechecking his final essay for errors.

The soft click of his fingers on the keys of his laptop, the faint sounds of traffic in the distance, what you’re sure is an anime opening hummed softly under Suga’s breath, your boyfriend’s pleasant scent, his body heat, his arms around you. These things are all wonderfully calming, but you’re not quite able tocompletely relax as you mull over how to bring up what’s on your mind.

“Suga?”

Your boyfriend stops humming what you're now  _ sure _ is definitely an opening from Naruto and makes a little noise of recognition to indicate he is listening.

“Would you….um.” You swallow and try again. “Do you want to do it tonight?”

The erratic clicking pattern of the keys halts abruptly when he registers the meaning of your words, his whole body becoming very still. The sounds of traffic, so faint only moments ago, now seem abnormally loud in the silence of his dorm room.

You pull back so you can see his face in the half light, trepidation making your movements slow. Surely you hadn’t been the only one feeling this way. At the onsen, in the water he had… you had been sure…. Had he not felt that same spark of longing?

Your worries are groundless; Sugawara’s expression holds so much tender affection it makes you shudder. He smiles and leans forward, his fingers tilting your chin up. Your eyelids flutter closed, holding your breath slightly as you wait for his kiss, but it never comes, at least, not where you expect it. You jolt slightly as his lips press softly against your neck, moving upwards, light and ticklish till he reaches your ear and nibbles at your lobe, chuckling under his breath at your small “Ah!” of surprise.

“Suga,” you whine, clutching harder at his t-shirt, “Kiss me.”

“I will. In a moment.”

Suga pulls back and grins impishly at your pouting face. Running his hands up your back to your shoulder blades and bending to kiss up the other side of your neck in small, wet circles. This time when he reaches your ear his tongue dips slyly inside and you squeal and jerk away, thumping him on the chest with your hand when he laughs.

He leans in still smiling and gives you the kiss he promised. It’s soft at first, and chaste, before his tongue parts your lips, coaxing you to slide them together in a slow dance that has your entire body tingling and sparking alight down to your very toes. The kiss is slow and all consuming, and you’re hyper aware of every small movement he makes. His arms tighten around your waist and you melt against him with a soft whimper. Gasping against his mouth as his hands slip lower, fingers spread as he cups your ass and squeezes.

You’re so cute. Blushing and backlit from the white light from his laptop screen. The laptop screen….. that shows his unedited final essay….

Fuck.

You kiss a line from his mouth to his chin, nipping at his jaw, intent on marking up his pale neck but hands on your waist again push you gently away.

“Wait, wait I have to finish this, give me five minutes.”

You make a disgruntled noise and lay your head on his shoulder, angled so you can deliver him a falsely coy smile.

“Go on then. I’m not stopping you.”

Suga frowns, not believing that smile for a second, but goes back to his essay.

You feel a bit delirious, caught up in the moment and braver than you have ever been before in your physical relationship with Sugawara. Maybe it’s because he’s reacting so strongly to your touch or simply because you have been thinking about this moment for so many nights and you finally have the green light.

You shuffle higher up his lap, and press a kiss to the graceful line of his throat, swallowing your giggle as you watch his frown of concentration deepen. You’re a nuisance. Delivering distracting little licks to his pulse points and nibbling at his skin.

Sugawara fidgets under you, his fingers tapping rapidly on the keyboard as you feel his length harden under your centre. With a grin, you find satisfaction in slowly grinding into his lap, your smile growing as Suga sucks in air sharply through his teeth, one hand jumping to your ass, before he reluctantly moves it back to join the other at his desk.

When you bite him, hard enough that you know it will leave a bruise, Suga yelps, his fingers stalling and swearing under his breath when you lave your tongue over the red mark, soothing the sting and causing the warm knot of growing arousal in his stomach to tighten.

Five minutes more of your incessant teasing and then Suga slams his laptop lid closed with a sigh of relief. Grabbing your chin in his hand and kissing you senseless with all his built-up frustration, his free hand sneaking under your panties and groping your ass. You squeal in surprise and Sugawara grins, sliding his other hand down your back to join the first and grabbing at your ass cheeks. His smile takes on a darker edge when you moan, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment at your reaction.

“Finished?” You ask, your voice drawn out and breathy and Suga hums in confirmation. Your heart rate doubles as you slide off his lap, stumbling over to his tiny bed and dragging your boyfriend behind you by the arm. Sugawara follows easily enough, matching your smile and copying your actions when you start undressing. When you both stand free of your clothes he fights the impulse to cover himself as your eyes follow the line of his body down to his obvious arousal, licking his lips nervously as you walk towards him with large, curious eyes. He jolts when your warm hand ghosts over his hip, the tiniest brush of fingers that had his heart skittering in his chest.

“Can I touch you?” You ask, and all of Suga’s breath leaves him on one long exhale, his lovely brown eyes wide and red dashed across his cheeks. After a pause, he takes your hand in his and places it over his arousal, gasping when your fingers explore his length, even slipping down to stroke his balls. He grunts, his hips bucking forwards without his permission. He feels so vulnerable like this, but he doesn’t hate it. He’s not sure what to do with his own hands so he leaves them at his sides, his fingers clenched into fists from the threads of pleasure sparking alight in his body under your care, with the added visual stimulus of your body naked in front of his eyes. Your hand is back on his cock, tighter this time, but he’s not sure if you realise the effect that it has on him as you stroke him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth. Your fingers play over his length curiously and when you run one finger up to rub at the head his knees buckle slightly, scrambling to tug your hand away with a hiss of alarm.

Your eyes are startled when they flick up to his face. “Sorry, did I do something wrong?”

Suga smiles disarmingly and squishes your worried face between his hands. “No. I just don’t want to get too close already.”

He can feel the heat from your blush against his palms as he kisses your nose. You smile back nervously and turn away slightly to clamber onto his bed, motioning him over with a jolt of your head.

Suga kneels in front of you, his heart thudding painfully loud in his chest at the sight of you naked on his bed, leaning against the plain, standard issue headboard and standard issue pillows. But your presence makes him see them in a new light, because everything in this moment is perfect anticipation, everything is extraordinary, even his simple dorm room and the muted city sounds. His eyes slip over the swell of your bare breasts. Your nipples, pebbled and tempting, beg for his attention.  Sugawara raises his hands to cup your breasts but they falters just millimeters away, driving your need for him through the roof with the unintentional tease.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, echoing your earlier question.

“Please. Please touch me,” you say breathlessly, arching your back and pressing your chest into his palms. Suga makes a noise of approval, squeezing gently and rubbing circles with his thumbs over your peaked nipples, enamored with your breathy sighs.

His gaze drops down to your wet centre and so does his hands. You don't stop him, far from it. Leaning back further against the headboard and parting your legs, a thrill of arousal making your inner muscles clench around nothing at your display. Suga’s deft fingers part your glistening pussy lips, an almost inaudible moan slipping past his lips at the sight. You’re so wet already, all for him. He doesn’t consider himself particularity possessive but looking at your flushed face and equally flushed sex has him rethinking that assumption.

He starts to play his fingers over you, listening as you clutch his body closer and breathe gentle hints against his neck, rewarding him with little groans and fingers scrambling at his back. You’re so wet. His fingers are soaked with your arousal and you blush cutely when he pauses to give them a curious lick. He watches with interest as the muscles in your thighs start jumping at each brush of his fingers against your sex, chasing your reactions, wanting to hear that particular moan again or see your toes curl against his sheets.

“Suga, Suga stop I’m –I want to come together.”

Suga lays off pleasuring you, sucking on his fingers as you catch your breath.

“How are you?” he asks, running his hand up your side in a soothing motion.

“Perfect.” You smile, shuffling down the bed so that you can lie on your back, holding your arms open in invitation. “You?”

“Closer to coming then I’d like. But I’ll blame you for that. You really are much too sexy to be allowed,” Suga breathes, grabbing for one of the foil packets in his bedside draw. Inexpertly rolling it over his arousal before tucking himself into your embrace and brushing the hair from your forehead so he can press a kiss there.

You laugh, breathless and happy, snatching up his hand and cradling it against your cheek. “I love you. I love you so much Koushi.”

He says it back, his expression revenant, the warm light from the single desk lamp, sparking off his hair and tinting his lovey brown eyes with gold.

You share a smile, then wrap your arms tighter around him and press at his hips, wanting his cock inside you, wanting to strip down any lingering barriers you have been painstakingly working to pull down with the help of the beautiful boy smiling down at you.

He takes his cock in his hand and guides himself into your waiting heat with a strangled gasp. He wasn’t expecting it to be so tight. It’s almost painful, but the warmth and the wetness take his breath away. After a few moments your grimace fades, and the tightness lessens somewhat. His movements feel a bit unnatural as he rocks his hips, experimenting with different rhythms and angles till he brushes up against a sensitive spot deep inside you that has your arms tightening around his neck and a small breathy groan slipping past your lips. He nudges up against it again and you murmur his name, dragging your lips up the side of his face to reach his panting mouth. Your nails dig into his shoulders and the tempo quickens, becoming something greedy and eager as you kiss him, pulling his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking.

Your words echo in his head as his hand leaves your hip, travelling towards your centre to tease your swollen clit. _I love you. I love you so much Koushi._ The tight ball of heat, so close to exploding when his fingers explored your soaking pussy, jumps back into the forefront of your awareness. Teasing your body with the knowledge of an impending orgasm as the sensation begins to skirt the pleasure-pain barrier, so good it almost hurts.  Suga pulls away, unknowingly leaving you gasping at the brink, kneeling back and adjusting his grip on your body to grasp your thighs. 

“Oh god don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

Suga’s eyes widen with the sudden realisation of how close you are to coming. He lets instinct take over his rhythm, rutting into you with new intensity. _I love you. I love you so much Koushi._ He hits that spot again and it’s all you need to set you off, arching off the bed with your eyes rolled back under half-closed lids.  He groans as the muscles deep within you tighten rhythmically, milking his cock as he throws back his head with a yell he tries to muffle for the benefit of his floor mates. He doesn’t feel the bite of your fingernails digging into his forearms as you shudder beneath him, too blissed out from his own orgasm. But in the morning, when he’s getting dressed for your brunch date he will see the pale red lines and smile secretly to himself. You collapse together in his tiny bed, spent and sweaty and much too in love to care about it.

He rests his head on your chest and you let him, running your fingers through his soft hair.

“How are you?” he asks again, his voice muffled against your bare skin.

“Amazing. I’m going to have to visit you more often now.”

Suga makes an exaggerated affronted sound but doesn’t move from his cozy spot between your breasts. “So you were only with me for my body? How dare you! I was under the impression that you were going to make an honest man out of me. How cruel [Name]-chan! Taking my innocence then throwing me by the wayside like I’m some kind of floozy you can take advantage of!”

“Oh hush you,” you mumble with a tired smile, fighting to keep your eyes open, warm and willing to let sleep take you. Practically purring as Suga’s fingers trail up and down your side in a simple caress.

Suga smiles to himself. His misgivings about making long distance work are trampled underfoot like the rumpled clothing strewn about on his floor. You love him and he loves you. Nothing can pull you apart. He feels unstoppable, exhausted but also more awake then he has felt in a long time. Every tiny sensation seems to echo all through his sensitive body. Your fingers in his hair, your racing heartbeat under his ear. He says nothing monitoring its pulse as it slows, and when he looks up next you’re asleep. Still cutely flushed with your hair stuck up at odd angles at the back of your head. _I love you. I love you so much Koushi._

* * *

 

He’s mildly ashamed to remember that he cried a little that night. He’s never told anyone but it's both one of the most tender and embarrassing memories he has. But when you move above him like this, with eyes filled with so much love, and he can feel the colder metal of your wedding ring against his chest as you run your hands over his body, he thinks he might tell you, one day. When you’re both old and wrinkled, reminiscing about the past from your deck chairs.

He knows now that his giddy belief at 19 that you would breeze through the years of going long distance had been slightly naïve. Even now he sometimes breaks out in a cold sweat when he thinks about what he might have missed out on with his uncalled for, misplaced jealousy over your relationship with your tutee in third year. The remembered fear in his mouth, sharp and bitter, of the subsequent dash on the late-night train to your flat that had followed a week after that stupid phone call. Deathly afraid of the consequences of his lonely outburst.

He will never regret that. Not letting the argument get so out of hand, but swallowing his pride and admitting his fault. Nor will he shed a tear for the last-minute bullet train fare or the stares from the other late night passengers. no. never.

His orgasm peaks before yours, and you hold his face between your hands and croon softly, inner muscles clenching down on his cock at the sight of his face, mouth parted and brows furrowed vulnerably as his come paints your walls. When he can think again a few well-placed touches has you crying out into his shoulder until you can’t do much more but tremble in his arms.

You laze around under the covers, basking in the afterglow as you watch the strip of sunlight travel along the wall. Who needs food or water anyway? You'd be quite happy to stay here all day like this. 

You secretly leer at your husband's ass as he rolls out of the bed and walks over to the window, throwing open the curtains and making a happy sound at the flood of sunlight. You're contemplating a nap but Suga has other ideas, rejoining you on the bed and pulling you into his lap again.

“Let’s have a shower together.”

“Is this just a ruse to canoodle under the water?” You raise your eyebrows, your voice falsely accusing. Suga laughs happily in reply, his hand tracing down your back to give your bum a squeeze as he winks.

“Of course.”

“Excellent. Count me in.”

Your husband belongs in this kind of light, the sunlight streaming through the curtains turns his hair white-gold, mussed from your love-making. His beauty sobers your mood. Like when you are surrounded by great art in a museum. You cradle his face in your hands and bump your foreheads together. Your voice is a whisper.

“Can I tell you a secret? I never expected you to stick around once things started getting hard, when my symptoms would crop up or when we had to go long distance. It took me longer than it should have to trust you. I’m sorry about that.”

Suga smiles.  “Can I tell you a secret? I knew. It just made me happier when you started trusting and relying on me. You don’t have to apologise for things that are outside of your control. I’m on your team. No matter what. Even got the ring to prove it.”

You snort as he holds up his left hand, throwing your arms around your husband and hiding your face in his neck.

“I love you,” you murmur. Squinting your eyes in pleasure when Suga’s warm hands run down your back.

“My lovely wife. I love you too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super curious if you guys have picked up on my kinks at this point, I was thinking about it the other day coz I write these for my indulgence so I guess they are pretty transparent in that case. Lmao.  
> Till next time reader-chan! <3


	25. Falling slowly (Oikawa Tooru)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a Christmas present to all you lovely readers <3 a continuation of Oikawa's thread. I'm planning a few more before I wrap this one up along with a continuation of Nagisa, Kags, Haru and Yamababy. I'm also slowly working on a Kuroo thread but he is my favourite husband so that won't be published for some time. It's gotta be perfect ya feel?  
>  I'm working full time over my summer break -ugh- so that's why I've been a bit absent but I'm hoping to pump out at least a few over the next couple of months. :)

Oikawa looks up from his textbook in shock. “What did you just say?”

“I said yes Oikawa. I’ll go to the party with you.” You frown, sipping at the strawberry bubbletea he just slid across the table at you. “Isn’t that why you asked me to? Because you wanted me to go?”

Oikawa runs his fingers through his hair, his smile growing. “Well yeah, but I never thought you’d say _yes_. I’ve been trying to get you to come with me all year!”

You shrug, passing the drink back across the library table you’ve snatched up to his waiting hand. It’s crowded with students this time, all cramming frantically for the end of the year.

“Well my exams are finished and I’m bored,” you say by way of explanation. Honestly his surprise is a little insulting. You’re not _that_ much of a shut in. Well you are, but it’s not like you _never_ go out, you just love fictional characters more than life, and tend to prefer places where you can actually hear yourself think.

You leave Oikawa in the library, buried under a pile of revision for his final exam, but not before he manages to convince you to give him a kiss on the cheek, “For good luck [Name]-chan!”

You consent, because It’s easier then hearing him whine about it for the next week, and it’s such a little thing. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like you think about the new cologne he’s sporting all the way back to your dorm, or his little smile when you had pulled back and wished him luck in a begrudging voice. That would be weird. Falling for Oikawa –not that you’re falling for Oikawa— would be a very stupid thing to do. He’s good to you, and it’s no secret between the two of you that he wants you. Hell, he says it often enough. But Oikawa likes to have fun and you’ve had the privilege of observing his romantic affairs for almost a year now, and none of them have developed into any kind of committed relationship. You’re not about to put yourself out there when there is even the slightest possibility of being hurt. And anyway, you’re fine as you are, you have your anime husbands and a best friend in Oikawa. You’re not about to rock the boat and ruin this good thing you have going.

You have hours until Oikawa will swing by your room to pick you up so you tidy up a bit, then destroy all your good work by trying on multiple outfits for the party and leaving them strewn about your floor and your bed.

You finally opt for your slinky black dress, coincidently the one you first meet Oikawa in. You zip it up the back, cramping up your arms as you get to the nap of your neck. You grimace slightly at the tight fit. It’s frankly startling to see yourself baring so much of your body like this.  It’s something sexier than anything you would usually wear but your closet isn’t exactly bursting with party worthy clothes. You turn to look at yourself in the mirror with a small frown, fiddling with the hem. Now that you’re wearing it your simple mascara and lip balm seem out of place. You look at the clock and there’s still ample time so you decide _fuck it_ and spend half an hour painstakingly following a YouTube tutorial for a “night out look.” Swearing as you reach for the makeup wipes when you screw up your eyeliner wing _again_. When it’s as even as you’ll ever get it, you squint at your reflection, a small smile curling your lips. You look….really good. It’s kinda awesome. You turn you head from side to side admiring your work and sway your body slightly to the rhythm of the song stuck in your head as you begin tidy away your things.

The first thing Oikawa notices when he comes into your room is your ass, clad in silky black material, jiggling slightly as you hum under your breath. The second is your smile as you spot him in the mirror and wave a mascara wand at him, and he’s already planning ways to keep other guys away from you during the night. He’s going to be hard pressed to because _fuck_ you look sexy. He entertains the thought of throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you over to your bed to peel that black, skin-tight material up and off your body. He would be generous. Ravishing you with his tongue and his fingers before he gave you his cock, only when you were good and ready, squealing and pleading with him, with your tight little—

“Did you just hear a word I said?”

“Um…”

You click your tongue and sit down on your bed, pushing the heaped pile of discarded clothes to one side and bending down to put on your shoes.

“I was congratulating you on finishing the year. You’ll do well as always so I’m not gonna wish you luck with your final mark. By the way, what kind of booze do you want to get? I refuse to drink your crappy beer.”

Oikawa shakes his head like he’s riding his ears of water then smiles and sits beside you, ruffling your hair.

“Whatever you want princess, we’ll grab it on the way there.”

You roll your eyes at the new nickname, but when you shuffle over to the mirror for a final check Oikawa can see your blush in the reflection.

You lag behind Oikawa on your way to the party. Weighed down by the booze in your bag and your growing trepidation. Why did you agree to come out again? The last time you went to a party was when the male model in front of you puked on your shoes. It had been a disaster from start to finish really, no one had taken your fancy and you had gone home alone. The only addition to your walk of…unshame? was the lingering smell vomit. You had accepted that one night stands just weren’t your thing that very night. But you’d been desperate. Desperately horny, and desperately lonely, wanting to forget your past and be the frosty, unfeeling girl people thought you were.

“[Name]-chan.”

You look up from your feet in their new strappy heels to find Oikawa gazing at you with a quizzical expression. He really is so unbelievably handsome, backlit by the lights from downtown. The neon pinks, greens and blues play over his hair and reflect in his dark eyes.

“Are you feeling okay? Sorry we have to pass through here, it’s the quickest way.”

“It’s fine,” you say shortly, always rattle by his sudden bouts of thoughtfulness.

A rowdy group of party goers are catching up to the two of you on the sidewalk, drunk as they club hop. Oikawa opens his mouth to say something, his hand reaching for your face, or perhaps your hair, but he’s cut off by the sound of drunken yells.

“Nice ass!”

“Ditch him and come with us! We’ll show you a good time!”

You freeze, not really sure what to do. Normally you would glare and maybe say something cutting in reply, but you’ve seen guys get violent in the blink of an eye when pissed. You hate the way your heart speeds up, a small stab of fear urging you to make yourself small and as least provoking as possible.

“Didn’t you hear us sweetie?”

You can feel that they’re right behind you and you startle when you feel an arm across your back, but it’s just Oikawa, tugging you against his chest.

“Sorry guys, my girlfriend’s not feeling so well so if you could just be on your way that would be wonderful.”

You look up at him in surprise at the title but don’t say anything, still trying to appear nonthreatening and forgettable. Oikawa’s smiling but there’s something wrong about it and it makes you shiver. It’s a threat. You don’t know how, or what exactly that threat is. But it’s as plain as day.

You forget sometimes that he is intimidating when he wants to be. Six foot and athletic, with an intensity that blows you away. It’s hard to remember when you’re lying on your bed eating junk food and watching crappy low-budget alien films because he’s seen every popular alien movie out there a million times.

But right now, he’s scary. There’s a tense moment where the group of four guys weigh up their chances, but it’s busy out and there are sure to be police about tonight checking for public disturbances on a Friday night in downtown Tokyo.

They leave, blustering filthy words at you as they walk out of sight.

“Are you okay?” Oikawa asks, his eyes full of concern. You’re not. Not really. You’re rattled and just a little afraid. You want to bury your face in his jacket and stay warm and safe in the circle of his arms. But even as you think it there’s a part of you that rejects relying on someone like that. On allowing yourself to be vulnerable, so you step out of his hold and smile weakly.

“Yeah, thanks for that. Let’s get going.”

Oikawa walks in silence for the rest of the journey, making sure to shorten his strides to keep you within arm’s reach. He watches you warily from the corner of his eye. You seem fine now but he can’t get your wide-eyed expression out of his head. He’s never seen you like that and it’s unnerving to find that someone as spiky and blunt as you would have such a reaction to a group of cat-callers.

He wonders what it must be like to walk in a world where he would have to be afraid of such people. Where he would need to weigh every one of his actions so as to not provoke some kind of attack he could not fight off.

Your mood seems to perk up when you make it to the party, admitting that your feet were starting to hurt in your new shoes. Oikawa nods and nabs a spot on a sofa for the two of you so you can rest your feet. He preens himself as he watches several guys notice you, eyes lighting up, then notice him and realise he won’t stand for anyone trying anything on you. That’s probably hypocritical of him. It _is_ hypocritical of him. When he’s known to bring girls home when the mood takes him. Although Mattsun made an offhand comment recently that they’re all starting to vaguely resemble you. Which is both weird and a little sad if he’s honest with himself.

After a few drinks Oikawa manages to convince you to play beerpong which is something of a miracle but it’s probably due to the fact that you’re already looking a little glassy-eyed and giggly. You’re a terrible shot but Oikawa doesn’t care because you do a little jiggly dance before each throw that does his head in with how cute it is, and besides, Oikawa more than makes up for your mistakes. The game and the one that follows does have the consequence of making both of you rather drunk however and after dancing and getting all sweaty you stumble into an unoccupied room upstairs, giggling and caught up in Oikawa’s arms as he valiantly tries to keep both of you upright. He fails spectacularly, as drunk as you are, and you sprawl onto the floor in a heap with your legs tangled and your hair in his mouth, shrieking as he decides to pin and tickle you. It’s a happy mess. When you’re both out of breath you rummage through your bag for more drinks and play a game, passing bottles back and forth as you trade secrets, squealing at your answers and falling about onto the floor clutching your stomach from laughing too hard. The questions get progressively more sexual in nature but your tongue is loose from the alcohol and with the state you’re in you don’t really care about sharing such personal parts of your life with your best friend.

“It depends on how bored I am and how much time I have. Sometimes it’s every night and sometimes I go for weeks without doing it at all.”

Oikawa’s eyes are wide as he takes a large gulp of his drink, the game forgotten as he imagines you in a compromising position in your dorm room bed. He sleeps in that bed with you when he stays over sometimes. The thought makes him shiver and feel guilty at the same time because he knows what he’s going to be using as jerk off material for the next foreseeable future.

“What about you?” you slur, pointing at his chest with your pinky finger so as to not put down your bottle. “How often do you do it?”

Oikawa shrugs leaning back against the wall with a dopey smile, trying to wink with a half numb face. “Like every day basically? I’m a man in the peak of health and hormones after all.”

He can’t tell if you find the imagery appealing or not as you nod like you expected as much, and take another drink.

Oikawa’s expression sobers slightly and he points his bottle at your face. “My turn. Who is the guy in the picture on your shelf and what’s the story behind it?”

You make a face, stalling for time. “That’s two questions dumbass.”

“I still want an answer.”

You click your tongue at his stubbornness, good mood failing rapidly as you remember things you’d rather forget.

“He’s my Ex. I dumped him. That was two years ago. The end.”

“Let me guess, he was an asshole?”

He’d say the look you give him is bitter but it’s too soft for that.

“No. He was wonderful, kind and sweet, soft spoken. And I dumped him without any warning”

Oikawa looks surprised and you laugh without humour and take another gulp of your drink. “What? You thought he was the bad guy? It took him weeks to pull up the courage to kiss me. He gave me tiny origami hearts after our first date. He went to a boys-only school, can you imagine making those in class? He did that. He brought me books for my birthday, and I dumped him.”

Your silent for a moment and Oikawa thinks that’s all he will get out of you but then you speak again, your gaze turning inward and your fingers picking at the carpet.

“The more I think about it, the more I think that I might have just been lonely. I wanted to think there was someone for me. I liked talking to him, you know? He was interesting and liked the same stuff that I did. Did I want to rip his clothes off? Not really. But he wasn’t bad looking. And I thought, you’re above this. Physical attraction isn’t _that_ important. Give the boy a chance.”

You shuffle uncomfortably, drawing your legs up to clutch your knees and rest your head on them.

“I thought maybe I was being too highhanded to want ‘the whole package’ or something. I mean, I’m not much of a catch, so why should I be so picky?”

Oikawa eyes you in your dress and quietly disagrees with you. But he lets that comment go because this is the most you’ve ever talked about your life before coming to uni. Not including trivial stuff that is.

“You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?” Oikawa muses, taking a sip from his drink.

“Sorry, I’m just talking about my own shit.”

“That’s not what I meant. This has been weighing on you for some time now, hasn’t it?”

You’re silent for a moment. Oikawa doesn’t like the downturn of your mouth so he shuffles next to you and nudges you with his shoulder, winking obnoxiously.

“Well you don’t have to worry [Name]-chan. I’m the whole package!”

He is. Annoyingly so, but you keep your face blank and raise one eyebrow just to fuck with him.

“Oh? Is that so?”

Oikawa looks affronted but you know he is still playing along.

 “I’m smart, good at sports, I even watch your weird anime stuff with you, and physical attractiveness? Hello?! Do you have eyes?”

You snort your laughter behind your hand, unable to keep it in when he starts poking you in the side. And like that your mood changes. You lunge forward and tackle him to the floor with a whoop, giggling as the room spins around you. Oikawa stares at the ceiling in shock at such an outward display of affection from you. You must be drunker then he thought. All at once you seem to get tired and slump onto his chest, nuzzling your face into his shirt.

Oikawa’s arms wrap around you on instinct, his heart beating faster than normal. He’s not as drunk as you and he knows he will remember this. He wants to remember this, because your vulnerability is precious to him, as are your secrets and the sides of you that you would rather not share with anyone else. He’s come so far with you in this friendship, to the point where you’re opening up to him. The pretty girl with the bad case of resting bitch face is so much more, means so much more to him then he had ever thought possible when you had first stumbled across him at that party all those months ago. You’ve become integral parts of each other’s lives. If nothing else, he has this to hold onto. He wants you and wants to be with you, but this, being the one who gets to hear your confessions, share your food, and lounge around with you is nice too. You’re good for him. He needs someone in his life to call him out on his shit and keep him grounded.

“So that’s why you’re defensive is it?” he murmurs jokingly, smiling as he strokes your hair. You laugh but it’s bitter, and he immediately knows he said the wrong thing if he wanted to keep the mood light.

“I think I owe that to my parents actually. What’s the saying? ‘They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had, and add some extra, just for you.’ I read that somewhere once. Rather poignant, isn’t it?”

Oikawa doesn’t know what to say to that, his stomach rolling uncomfortably as he thinks of his family at home, always ready with a smile and a word of encouragement. It’s not like he hasn’t noticed the way your face tenses up whenever family life is mentioned around your other friends, but it’s the first time you’ve ever spoken about yours. But maybe you don’t want him to say anything. Maybe you just want someone to listen. He’d do anything for you, and this is an easy thing to give, so he sits up, looking behind him as he butt-shuffles over to the wall so he can lean his weight on it. He keeps you against him the whole time so you fall into his lap with a little squeak of surprise. Smiling at your slight confusion he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and says softly, “Don’t stop, tell me about it. I don’t think it’s healthy to keep it all locked in. I’ll listen.”

Your eyes widen and his heart expands happily to see gratitude and surprise there. He cares about you so much. He waits as you gather your thoughts, a little shy and a little hesitant but willing to share.

“I’ll never get those years back. I think that’s the worst part. I don’t remember anything from that first year when it started getting really bad, at least nothing specific. It was like my house was toxic, I couldn’t breathe, I stayed in my room, I read novels, I tiptoed around and buried my head in worlds that were happier than mine. Even if they had dragons or vampires or whatever. When they finally split I thought that would have been the end of it, but my dad decided to get with one of my mum’s friends and it was fucking world war three. Have you ever had to find your mum in the gutter with a bottle of wine, stumbling home from a pity party? I have.”

You’re ranting now, you’re voice low and angry as you hiss the words like a cat.

“They would scream at each other on the phone and be late on child-support payments and stuff. It’s like they forgot who was being impacted the most from stupid petty things like that. They thought they were ‘winning’ some personal battle but they were just messing with my life. And always ‘did you hear what _your_ father did’ or ‘ _your_ mother’s being so difficult.’ Like it was my fault because I was related to them or I should feel guilty or something.”

“I’m sorry,” Oikawa murmurs, running his hand down your back. He is sorry. That you had to suffer alone for so long. He knows you well enough to know you wouldn’t have spoken about your problems with others until it was too much to bear.

You shake your head, tightening your hands in his shirt and hiding your face in in his shoulder. Your voice gets scarily quiet and he has to strain to catch it, even with how close he is.

“It got better. My mum went back to normal and I got counselling. She met a nice guy who cares so much about her, they’re annoyingly affectionate and…I hate it. I think that’s the worst thing. She’s so happy, she’s moved on, and there’s a part of me that is angry that she has. It’s like she’s left me behind, both of my parents have. They’ve fucked me up and gone on to live happy romantic lives.”

Your voice cracks on the word “romantic” and Oikawa stills, afraid that you’ve started crying because of his nosiness. There’s a beat of silence and then you push up off him so you can see his face. Your eyes are dry, your smile is amused, edged with self-mocking as you say, “Trust me, whatever you claim you don’t want anything to do with me romantically. You’re right that I’m a romantic but you forgot to include a bucket load of trust issues and a sex drive through the roof. Who would want to deal with that?”

You take a deep breath and exhale slowly, slumping against him.

“You can run away now,” You say softly, muffled against his shirt.

Your view of yourself is frankly alarming to Oikawa, but he doesn’t know how to make you feel better about yourself short of kissing you. He mentally makes a note to speak to Iwaizumi about it and tries to make you smile again with a joke.

“You just don’t want to have sex with me because I will ruin other men for you. Where are you going to find a man with my good looks, willing to do all manner of things with his tongue? It’s a once in a life time opportunity.”

You swat at his chest, trying your best to keep your smile off your face but failing as Oikawa laughs and moves his hands so they are resting innocently on your hips. Usually you would be pulling them off and scolding him but you feel so warm and safe, still pleasantly buzzed from the alcohol and lighter for having told your best friend the darkest parts of you. Free from the fear that the knowledge would somehow make him indifferent to you, or even scathing. You see none of those things in his eyes as he grins at you lopsidedly.

“You know when you’re like this I can kinda see why all the girls go bonkers over you.” You say the words without thinking. Watching with interest as a splash of surprise flits across his handsome face, then he’s back to his usual charming smile.

“What, you couldn’t see that from the very moment you laid eyes on me?”

You’re glad he’s making a joke out of it. You wonder if he did so on purpose so he wouldn’t frighten you off with how vulnerable that comment could make you in this strange dance you’ve been in for some time now. You suppose he knows you well enough to do so. You clear your throat and cross your arms under your breasts, your hard, outer casing falling down over your expression like a steal trap as you start to regret spilling your history in a drunken rant.

“Not really no. I was cleaning up your puke if you remember.”

Oikawa laughs, looping his arms under your thighs and standing, laughing harder when you squawk in alarm and cling to him, scared he is going to drop you. But he only moves over to the bed, sitting in it’s centre before flopping backwards and taking you with him.

“We are really going to have to dress that story up for our kids” Oikawa muses, reclining on his forearms with a wink and trying to ignore the fact that you’ve unknowingly shuffled down his body from the move so your weight is teasing his dick. He’s also very aware of the fact that your dress is dangerously close to exposing your ass as you’re kinda straddling him.

“Kids?” You should be rolling away right about now, there’s no reason to stay on him like this, not when there is so much space on the bed. But you don’t move, a small thrill tingling through your body as he shifts beneath you, your heart beating overtime as you indulge yourself in another moment of guilty pleasure. You pray he doesn’t call you on it, you’d never hear the end of it.

Oikawa smirks, fully aware of all the things you don’t want him to know, it only makes his little problem worse. He shifts again, trying to disguise his growing arousal, clenching and unclenching his hands as he lingers on the way your soft, bare thighs had felt in his hands, so caught up he almost forgets to reply to your question. What are you talking about again?

“Don’t worry, that’s years away. They’re going to be so cute. I mean, 50% of their DNA is going to be mine, so that’s only logical. And with your brains? it’s not even fair to the other kids really.”

You roll your eyes but you’re smiling as you finally drag up the will power to roll away off to the side.

“We don’t even date Oikawa,” you say, shifting the blankets of the bed so you can burrow down into the warmth and ignore the knowing look in his eye.

“And yet that wasn’t your first objection. Admit it [Name]-chan, you like me; it’s getting embarrassing.”

“In your dreams.”

* * *

 

There’s a hideously cheerful melody pulling you from sleep. Trilling just at the edge of your consciousness. You groan, snuggling down further under the covers and into the warm body beside you, trying to get away from the terrible noise. Oikawa sleeps on and you rest your head on his chest and try to deny the existence of the alarm, hugging him tighter and wanting nothing more than to fall asleep in his embrace once more. Wait what?

“What the….”

“Shhhh, we’re sleeping [Name]-chan.”

“…..Why?”

“Nnooo,” Oikawa whines, his voice raspy from sleep as he tugs you back against him, even wrapping one of his legs around you to keep you there.

You fill with mortification as you realise your arm is caught in his shirt behind his back and try to pull it free without him noticing. How did this happen? Fuck your head hurts. At least the alarm has stopped.

“Whose bed are we in?” you ask, confusedly looking about the tiny, unfamiliar bedroom, squinting against the headache inducing morning sunlight.

“No idea,” Oikawa murmurs, sleepy and soothing, “Some poor soul who had to sleep in the living room most likely.”

“Oh.”

Should you be getting up now? Is this an appropriate thing for friends to be doing? Probably not. But it feels nice and you’re comfortable so…

Oikawa interrupts your deliberation by chuckling softly, his eyes still closed and his hair messy.

“[Name] is a secret cuddleslut.~ I was almost asleep and you rolled over and cuddled me. I was so happy [Name]-chan. You were so cute.~”

“If you don’t shut up right now I’m leaving. I’m still here only because I can’t be bothered moving.”

“That’s such a lie [Name]-chan,~ I know you love meeee— ah wait! Where are you going?! [Name]-chan?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Happy holidays to you all! xoxo  
> I just want to say how grateful I am for all of your comments this year, I read every single one and it always makes me feel wonderful. A special shout out to you readers who comment all the time, I see you fam. <3
> 
> Let's hope 2017 isn't such a shit storm lmao, hopefully this update made you happy. :)


	26. I was made for loving you (Hazuki Nagisa)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back, back again...
> 
> Thank you all so much for your lovely patience and kind words. I was really stressed about Uni and having a bit of writers block because of it. I hope this chapter is still close to the standard you expect from me anyway.  
> This is for the reader that requested a continuation of the Nagisa thread. I hope you all enjoy it. :)

 “I really want to have sex with [Name]-chan,” says Nagisa wistfully, his voice slightly muffled around his Iwatobi bread, ignoring Rei as he chokes on his own food.

When Rei recovers, he adjusts his glasses, coughing to clear his throat with burning cheeks.

“Nagisa, I don’t think you should really be discussing—“

“But Rei-chan! Who else would I talk about this to? This is what friends _dooo_ , we talk about our sex lives and give each other tips!”

“I thought having no sex life to speak of was why you wanted to talk to me. Was I wrong?”

“Rreeeiii-chaaaan!” Nagisa whines, affronted at his friend’s bluntness. “I’m working on it! No need to be rude, it’s not like you’re any different from me.”

There’s a few seconds of frosty silence before Nagisa drapes himself over Rei’s shoulder, grinning from ear-to-ear as he pokes his friend’s cheek, his mood sunny and pleasantly teasing once more. “Ne ne Rei-chan, what are your kinks?”

“Don’t you think you should be focusing on how you are going to confess to [Name]-san? She has to agree to date you first, and that will be a miracle in itself. You’re so immature.”

 

* * *

 

_> Happy Birthday [Name]-chan!!!! I love you! I love you!! I love you!!!!<_

Normally you would be kinda annoyed to be woken up early on a Sunday, but really, how can you be mad when the reason is as cute as this?

You grin at your phone and snuggle back into your blankets, quickly typing out a reply of thanks feeling warm and loved. You’ve promised your family today will be a family day, so you’re going to have to be content with this small memento from your boyfriend until tomorrow. He’s promised you that he will “be the best boyfriend ever and make it super special for [Name]-chan!” whatever that means. Regardless it’s sure to be sweet.

At school, there’s a strange atmosphere hanging over the third years’ section. An aura of uneasiness as everyone realises that a chapter of their lives is ending and they’re about to be turned out into a world of student loans, debt, horrendously boring part time jobs and new adventures. Only one day to go until graduation. How the hell did that happen? There isn’t much for you to do in your free study period what with exams being over so you’re just killing time wandering around, reminiscing about the three years you’ve spent walking these halls. It’s bitter-sweet and a bit surreal, but your thoughts are interrupted by a loud trill of your name.

“[Naaammmee]-chaannn!!”

 You’re hit from behind by what can only be your boyfriend, and don’t even bother trying to stifle the wide smile that his presence brings to your face. A harassed looking teacher sticks their head out into the corridor and yells at him to keep it down, but he is too busy gushing happy birthdays into your ear and peppering the side of your face with kisses. The teacher, realising the cause of the noise and the reason, just shakes her head in defeat and closes the door behind her. You wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in the whole of Iwatobi is sick of hearing your name. Your boyfriend’s favourite pastime seems to be bragging about you to anyone who will listen, even if there isn’t much to tell.

The two of you share lunch on the rooftop, a spread of pineapple and watermelon cut into pieces and Iwatobi bread he always manages to nab from the cafeteria despite Gou’s healthy lunch radar, and after school you’re pulled along to the cute desert café you often frequent because of Nagisa’s sweet tooth. The taste of sugary sweetness has grown on you, just like the blond dork holding your hand on top of the table as you share a heaped sundae, and a whole host of different cupcakes, gazing at you adoringly the entire time. You eat more than your far share without feeling guilty or ashamed. Nagisa never makes you feel bad for indulging yourself, always ready with an earnest, slightly over enthusiastic compliment when you feel down about yourself in anyway. Despite your initial misgivings about dating your hyper friend of many years, everything is effortless. You fit perfectly together, two halves of a whole.

You talk about your plans to study at your respective local universities and plans for the break, Nagisa tells you all about choosing the next captain for the swim club with Rei and a hundred other things that cross his mind. You smile the entire time, nodding along and interrupting with your own two cents when the mood strikes you.

Next, you’re lead to the swanky new karaoke place in town and bustled into an already busy private room. All your friends are there and they hold up glasses filled with soda as you enter and yell happy birthdays at you, already several songs in and red faced from exertion and giddy happiness.

Nagisa sits beside you with his hand on your knee and a happy smile on his face. You’re used to having a warm, excitable koala attached onto your side in pretty much every circumstance now. Not even his sisters teasing had any effect these days. He feeds you snacks from his fingers and gushes compliments like no tomorrow, insisting on singing duets with you when he remembers why you are here in the first place. He’s so enamoured with you it borders on ridiculous, but that’s just Nagisa.  The night ends in a happy cacophony, your friends part ways for the night and you wander back your way with your hands clasped together. It’s one of those rare times when Nagisa is quiet, smiling at the ground and lost in his thoughts. You let him be, enjoying the pleasant buzz his company gives you. Your mind turns to Nagisa’s birthday, already jotting down ideas to make his extra special in repayment for today, and the dedication and care he puts into your relationship. He probably wants to do something fun, a beach day or a trip to an amusement park. You ask him as much but Nagisa doesn’t answer as he slows to a stop, you follow his gaze and realise that you’ve just walked past a small love hotel, made conspicuous by the neon hearts decorating the side. Your eyes move from the hotel to Nagisa’s profile. He’s gotten taller and filled out a little bit, but he’s still slight and sweet-faced. You’ve overheard some girls in your class saying he wasn’t manly enough for them to consider him attractive. You don’t really get it. Nagisa is attractive to you whatever anyone else might say. But it’s not really that which makes you look back at the love hotel with a considering expression. Nagisa loves you unabashedly, he cares so much, he makes you happy when you’re feeling down and always makes the most mundane things engaging with his enthusiasm. You take a breath, filling your lungs with the courage to say, “Do you...want to go inside?”

Nagisa startles at your question, his face colouring bright pink. “That’s not what… I didn’t plan –I mean, we haven’t talked about going further.” He’s acting like a little kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, shuffling his feet and rubbing at his nose in embarrassment for having been caught out.

“I know, but, I don’t really mind?” You shake your head, that’s not right. “No, I mean, I’d like to go inside, if you want to.”

You’re surprised you’re being so calm about this. But even when you shift through your thoughts nothing pops up that makes you regret your words. Maybe these things are just about finding the right person to share something that could otherwise be a daunting experience.

Paying for the room is all kinds of uncomfortable, but you giggle about it in the lift up to the right floor, your hands still clasped between you.

The room is dimly lit in an obvious attempt to create the kind of atmosphere the room was made for, the Korean diner in the complex across the street throws red and orange light onto the floor at intervals with the flashing of their signs. You move to explore the room further, interest peaked, and Nagisa lets you, sitting gingerly on the bed with his hands under his legs and the coloured lights reflecting in his eyes as he watches you. There’s a bathroom that’s barely large enough for the bath that dominates one whole wall, a little package sits on the counter filled with toiletries, bubblebath and a mint that you sneak into your mouth before you make your way back into the main room to find Nagisa still sitting in the same place with a pensive expression.

You join him, tugging his hands out from underneath him and cuddling up to his side. You’re happy when he turns his head to kiss you, his fingers tipping your head back so he can kiss you deeper, but he’s slightly erratic, like he doesn’t quite know how to move his limbs. He’s flushed and breathing heavily. His kiss too hard, the hand on your hip uncertain.

“Nagisa, relax. You’re way too keyed up about this.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Nagisa takes a deep breath, his arms moving to cage you against him tighter.

“You love me, right?”

“More than anything,” you say promptly, before he can be beset by any misgivings or doubts.

“We’re going to have sex, right?”

“That’s why we came in isn’t it?” You run a hand through his soft hair, a small, crooked smile on your lips. “Unless you changed your mind. We can just cuddle if you want. The bath looked cool, it lights up.”

Nagisa shakes his head. “I want to make [Name]-chan feel good. It’s just a lot to take in is all. It’s like—“

“A dream?” you ask, hiding your smirk behind your hand when Nagisa flushes and playfully slaps your shoulder with a pout.

“[Naaame]-chaaan,” he whines and you burst out laughing, unable to hold it in anymore.

It’s a bit of a low blow and you quickly scramble for something to say when Nagisa starts to wilt. You settle for wrapping him up into your arms and pressing sly kisses to the sensitive spots along his neck, whispering, “I’ve dreamed about you before too, I even think about you when…you know…”

Nagisa’s eyes grow wide as saucers, his expression eager.

“What do you think about?”

It’s a question you’re expecting so you play along, nipping at his skin and grinning like a cat that got the cream.

“Hmmm all sorts of things,” you purr, surprisingly coy and sexy. Usually you’re such a blabbermouth you couldn’t play the mysterious siren role to save your life. Your fingers trace along the line of his underwear, peeking out from under his jeans, watching with interest as his stomach clenches under your touch. Nagisa shivers, his hands moving to grip your hips and squeezing gently.

“I’d rather show you than tell you though…”

It’s a bit cheesy, like a line from a bad porno, but Nagisa takes the bait hook, line and sinker, rolling you onto your back and leaning over you, his hands sneaking just barely inside your shirt as he takes your breath away with his kisses. Soft and sweet and demanding all at once. Demanding your attention and your arousal and the little moan you give him freely as he roles his tongue against yours. You turn your head with a gasp when you run out of breath, giggling when his soft hair tickles your neck as he kisses your jaw all the way up to your ear, playfully licking and biting, drawing more giggles and moans from you.

“Get off. Otherwise I can’t take my clothes off.”

“I wouldn’t want that.” Nagisa grins, peeling himself off you to stand by the bed. He makes short work of his clothes, tugging and shucking in haste till he’s bare as the day he was born.

And just like that, all of your confidence seeps out of you like a deflating party balloon. Nagisa is completely shameless in his nakedness, and he has every right to be, his body is toned and muscled from swimming. His annoyingly high metabolism and constant exercise meaning that no matter how many cupcakes, iwatobi breads and double strawberry surprise sundaes he eats, he’s always going to look like a young Apollo.

He sits beside you with an excited grin, hugging a pillow to stop himself from cuddling you so you can take his place. Your hands uncertainly fumble with your shirt hem before pulling it over your head. Nagisa falls sideways onto his side with a playful wolf whistle, pretending to faint at the sight of you without your top on. He’s acting like it is the most natural thing to be bare around you. It makes it much easier to unclip your bra and work your jeans and panties down your legs. As the last of your clothing falls to the floor you move to cover yourself on instinct, but falter when you register Nagisa’s expression of dazed want. His pretty, magenta eyes are as wide as saucers as his gaze travels from your face down to your toes, then back up, lingering on your puckered nipples and soft mound, unconsciously licking his lips in anticipation and twisting his fingers into the pillow in his arms.

“You’re so pretty.” His voice is almost a moan as he says it. Letting his pillow fall to the side and holding his arms out for you.  You scramble closer, making to sit next to him and grab the pillow he dropped to give yourself some scant cover, but at the last second Nagisa’s fingers close around your wrist and tug you towards him so you all but fall into his lap with a shocked squeak. Nagisa only laughs, steading you with his hands on your back and kissing your forehead. You hum against his mouth as his lips find yours, trying not to freak out about the fact that his rapidly hardening cock is warm and hot, pressed against your skin. Nagisa’s hands fall to your hips and coax you closer to him. His finger trail up your stomach to your breasts, his thumbs swiping across your nipples. His eyes widen when they harden under his touch, his lip catching between his teeth. He does it again, his cock twitching against your thigh when you exhale in a near silent moan of appreciation. “My cute [Name]-chan.”

You’re not quite sure how or when he gets you on your back, too caught up in his wandering hands and the languid roll of his tongue to pay much attention to your surroundings. He disappears briefly to rummage in the basket on the beside table. You hear the crinkle of foil but you’re not afraid. Nagisa’s eyes are bright and happy, his hands caress your face and they are gentle. It feels natural to let your legs fall apart, letting him fit comfortably between them, his weight balanced on his forearms. It’s you who guides him inside of you, one hand carefully slipping his cock just inside your entrance and pressing forwards. Nagisa’s eyes widen as he enters you, no amount of dreams and fantasies could have prepared him for how good it feels, but he’s acutely aware of the way your mouth falls open in surprised pain. It’s grounding and reminds him to be gentle, but he’s a bit lost in how to make this better for you.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his arms shaking from the effort of keeping still when there’s a part of him that really wants to fuck like a couple of rabbits.

“Just, give me a minute,” you mutter, flashing a quick smile that looks more like a grimace to him. He watches as your other hand glides down your stomach to your joined bodies. He jolts as your hand bumps against the base of his cock, making your walls clench around him even tighter than they are now. You hiss in discomfort but it turns into a soft sigh as your fingers find your clit, gently rolling it between your fingers and trying to block out the pinching stretch that, though not exactly painful, is damn well uncomfortable.

“Sorry, it’ll get better, I’ll get better.”

You weren’t even aware you had shut your eyes until you open them to see Nagisa looking down at you with guilt in his gaze.

You snort, reaching your free hand up to pat his cheek. “Gosh Nagi, stop looking like you accidently stood on a puppy or something, I’m a big girl, I can handle this.”

Nagisa hums unhappily and you roll your eyes and bring his face to yours so you can kiss him, effectively shutting him up and making him forget your discomfort as he gets lost in the feel of your lips on his. Nagisa’s kisses are all-consuming, never leaving any doubt in your mind that he is in the moment with you. His tongue runs along your bottom lip and you let him slip it inside to taste you, turning the kiss wet and heated. Nagisa’s enthusiasm rises with your growing body temperature. Your fingers on your clit become harder and faster as you feel heat creeping up your spine. The pinch of the stretch is more of a dull ache now, the joint work of your fingers and Nagisa’s kiss lessoning the tension in your body. Nagisa shifts his elbows by your head, unintentionally slipping a few more centimetres into you and making you gasp against his mouth in unison with his groan of pleasure. You hadn’t known there had been any more of him to enter, but now instead of feeling uncomfortable the fullness of his cock inside you just feels heady, heavy with potential to give you pleasure.

“[Name]-chan, can I move?” Nagisa asks between kisses, his voice drawn out and strained. You smile, your fingers leaving your reddened clit to give his perky butt a playful slap.

“Go on tiger,” you murmur, unable to keep a straight face at your words, Nagisa matches your grin, giggling at the nickname. It feels right that you should start here, start with laughter. This has all been too serious for his liking, he’s glad you’re no longer tensed and stiff in his arms but warm and welcoming.

Nagisa starts slow, drawing out his cock till only the head is resting within your entrance, enthralled by the glisten mess covering his cock from your arousal. You sigh as he edges himself back in, letting him part your tight walls, slowly, slowly, till he bottoms out with a muffled grunt of pleasure. And then it starts all over again, the pace forcing you to feel every inch of his cock. “You’re so tight. It’s wetter than before”, Nagisa says, pistoning his slender hips faster. “You feel so amazing.” The cords in his neck are strained, his face flushed, with a cute dent in the bridge of his nose. “[Name]-chan is so cute, so pretty.” He’s babbling now, telling you he loves you over and over again, his instincts taking over his rhythm till it’s something a little frenzied, you know he’s close when he gives a forceful shiver, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, and sure enough his entire body tenses, his cock twitching inside you as he comes. There’s five seconds where Nagisa is blissed out with his eyes closed and a small smile on his face, then he’s looking down at you in surprised horror, a blush rapidly spreading across his cheeks.

“Oh my god I’m so sor—“

“Holy crap you’re cute when you come,” you cut him off, hiding a smile behind your hand. “I mean, I did technically see you come before, but that doesn’t really count because I was too busy freaking out. This is much nicer,” You purr the last part, cupping his cheek and pulling him closer to kiss the edge of his mouth.

Nagisa isn’t stupid, he knows you’re telling him you don’t care that he came so quickly, you’re giving him an out to save his pride, and though he appreciates the thought, Nagisa has never really been one for manly posturing and he couldn’t care less about saving face right now. He pulls out a little regretfully, and ties off the condom.

When he turns back he lies beside you and wraps his arms around your body, he clears his throat, “That felt amazing, but I want you to feel good too. How does [Name]-chan usually do it? Can you show me?”

Your stomach drops and your heartbeat picks up rapidly as you turn it over in your mind. Your body is still humming from frustrated arousal and an easy alternative has been presented to you. It’s a bit embarrassing and perhaps more revealing than what just conspired, but Nagisa is looking at you with such focused need that the idea seems desirable, a small thrill running through you at the possibility that you might even be sexy for a moment. You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the pad of Nagisa’s finger circling your nipple. You sigh in pleasure at the teasing friction, and he butts his head into your shoulder in a needy fashion you’re familiar with. “[Name]-chan, please…”

You ghost your hands down your body, tucking your feet under you and jostling Nagisa slightly as you shuffle up the bed to recline against the headboard. You can practically feel Nagisa vibrating with excitement as your fingers near your pussy. His hips jerking forward unintentionally when your fingers caressing your entrance produces a wet sound. You dip just slightly into your pussy, slicking your fingers up with your arousal and using it as lubrication as you play with your clit. The spike of warmth the tiniest circles has you shuddering, toes flexing against the bed in pleasure. Your clit is already swollen and throbbing from your previous work, and the added stimulus that is the knowledge that your boyfriend is watching you with hungry eyes have turned your sensitivity dial up to a hundred. You press harder, enjoying the overwhelming spike of pleasure that follows, almost painful. You squirm against your fingers, huffing a happy sigh through your nose. You ease off, content to take your time with this and draw out the pleasure. You play back and forward between fast and rough and barely there, stopping every time you almost fall over the edge with a breathy moan.

The third time you cycle through your moan is meet with an echo. It has you wrenching open your eyes to look at your boyfriend curled up beside you. He’s hard again, fucking into his hand with a desperate expression on his face. He looks at you with hazy, love-struck eyes, murmuring your name before he turns into your neck, kissing and sucking a path down to one pert breast, his free hand tugging gently at the other. He’s unskilled but eager to please, lapping at your nipple before pulling it into the warmth of his mouth and sucking furiously, the hand pumping his cock equally desperate. You jerk as you feel his teeth scrape over your sensitive skin, a shrill whine making its way out of your throat. The muscles in your legs start to vibrate, warmth rapidly expanding in your core and you smile happily for a split second before your orgasm hits you. Your head hits the sideboard with a thump and your toes curl and uncurl in time to the pulsing in your core. You lose Nagisa’s awed iteration of your name in your own rattling groan as it hisses past your teeth. But you do hear when he comes shortly after, your name repeated with rising tension as if from far away. When you fully come to Nagisa is clinging to your side like a sticky, sweaty koala, he doesn’t seem like he’ll be moving anytime soon, his chest rising and falling with each relaxed breath.

You do end up trying out the bath. Nagisa sits behind you with his face in the crook of your neck and his hands folded over your stomach. Of course Nagisa is clingy after sex, he’s clingy all the time. He’s quiet, his eyes closed and his face relaxed like he’s discovered utter contentment here among the bubbles, pressed close to your soft skin. You smile to yourself as he sighs, running his nose along the line of your shoulder up to kiss the edge of your throat.

 

* * *

 

The sex only gets better from there. His hands become smooth and sure on your body as yours do on his, a long way from the enthusiastic grouping from the first few times. He discovers a thing for teasing you with vibrators in your second year of university and you swear you walk funny for months until you get used to it. Sex with Nagisa is light-hearted and fun, passionate and affectionate. He’s never once initiated sex when he was upset or angry, only ever wanting to cuddle when he is feeling petulant or surly.

His kisses are like a shot of adrenaline. He likes kissing and sucking your fingers, kissing a certain spot on his throat can make his whole body erupt into goosebumps. He draws out foreplay till you’re glassy eyed and panting. Intimate knowledge of the other is built up and cherished. There are bad days too, but they don’t last long, years pass in a kind of happy bubble. People tell you the honeymoon phase should be well and truly over by now, smirking as they ask about how your relationship is and making offhand comments about compromise, hard work and commitment against the odds, but nothing has really changed between you, it’s easy and affectionate, though perhaps you owe that to Nagisa’s fun-loving, happy-go-lucky personality. Regardless you are grateful.

You purchase a tiny apartment downtown together, Nagisa piggybacks you over the threshold while you smother your laugh in his neck, mindful of your new neighbours. You sit on the floor in a patch of late afternoon sunlight in the bare living room, eating cup ramen for dinner.

You have Nagisa’s coffee ready the way he likes it on Thursday nights when he works late and comes home exhausted, he sits on the couch leaning heavily into your side and murmurs that he loves you before falling asleep. You smile, quickly slipping his drooping mug out of his limp hand before it tumbles to the floor.

 

You laugh at the exasperated father at the playground near your apartment, he chases his young son holding a scarf and jacket, beseeching the hyper thing to wear his outerwear with the wrath of his mother as the threat and incentive. The family lives below you and Nagisa babysits the four-year-old when the Takashi’s go on their monthly date night. He’s good at it, the boy worships him and you often come to find them making a mess in the kitchen or surrounded by lego on the Takashi’s living room floor Nagisa has come to adore children, pointing them out to you whenever you’re out and making wistful comments with intentions that you register but aren’t quite ready to address yet.

 

You’re lying naked with the sheets kicked off after an impromptu, rather ill planned romp in the peak of the summer heat. Sweat drips down your forehead and disappears into your hairline as you groan, swatting Nagisa and blaming him for getting you caught up in the moment. Today is a day you shouldn’t be moving on, the sun baking down on the roof and any soul silly enough to be out in the heat. Nagisa just chuckles weakly, tucking himself closer to your side despite your protest about the sticky warmth and running his hands over your soft stomach in circles with a smile on his face and a faraway look in his eyes.

 

He’s nervous, tugging at the collar of his shirt and surreptitiously wiping his hands on his trousers. The small velvet box in his pocket burning a hole in his thigh and making his breath come short. You look mildly concerned, asking him if he is alright as you lay your hand over his, but Nagisa doesn’t get a chance to make hasty assurances because the waiter distracts you by asking for your drink orders. Nagisa looks down at his menu blankly, he hasn’t even been thinking about what he wants to have, his mind too preoccupied with more pressing matters. He orders the first thing he sees at random, drumming his fingers on the table while you wait for the waiter to return with champagne glasses. Where did all his confidence go? He was bragging to his work mates only hours ago about the effort he had gone through to make everything perfect for this night.

He takes a steadying breath, his hand slipping into his trouser pocket, fingers clenched around the little box, there’s a buzzing in his ears as he stands, stumbling slightly on his chair leg as he moves around to your side of the table. He keeps his eyes on your face, finding the bravery he needs to kneel beside your chair, offering the little green box in his hand.

“[Name].” Oh god no his voice did not just crack.

Your eyes are widening as everything starts to click into place. Why Nagisa chose this fancy restaurant instead of the casual, low-key places or novelty diners he likes to frequent with you, making your way down the menu at your own pace. Why he has dressed up in a suit, why he asked you to wear something nice. It’s not because “It’s for the experience [Name]-chan!” It’s because he…

You’re speaking before he has even finished his sentence.

“Will you marry m-“

“Yes! Oh Nagisa. You -I’m so—“

Nagisa gapes as you cover your face in your hands and burst into tears. Dimly he is aware of the gazes they have drawn. But its second to the process his brain goes through, repeating your answer over and over in his head till he comes to one conclusion.

“You will?”

You nod frantically, desperately trying to wipe your eyes, a flush spreading across your cheeks when several of the other patrons begin clapping or cooeing, but Nagisa has eyes only for you as he clasps your hand in his and slips the engagement ring he so carefully selected onto your finger, then collapses forward with a relieved laugh so his head is resting on your lap with his arms looped tightly around your waist.

“My [Name]-chan,” Nagisa breathes, giddy and full of wonder. His heart feels fit to burst with the shear amount of emotions swirling within it.

For the rest of the dinner neither or you can wipe the goofy smiles of your faces, Nagisa barely registers what he eats, gazing at you with pure adoration, his chin resting in his hand and his knee touching yours under the table.

 

Nagisa’s crying like a baby, with his hands pressed against his chest as he kneels by your bed, in comparison the tiny thing in your arms is silent and sleeping, coming into the world with a tired yawn before he nodded off in your arms. You’re exhausted but high on adrenaline, you smile and pass the bundle into your husband’s arms.

“What should we call her?” You ask softly but Nagisa can’t get out anything coherent, sniffling and trying to wipe his nose on his sleeve without jostling the baby. You laugh, weak with fatigue as Nagisa begins cooing to his new born daughter, lost in her tiny fingers and scrunched face. It’s a precious moment.

 

You’re walking hand-in-hand through the park at a leisurely pace. These days that’s the only pace your body will allow. A young couple passes you and you smile as their laughter echoes back at you, you used to be like that, lively and loud in your affection. Nagisa calls your attention to the flower display to the right of the path and you make a pleased sound, breathing in deep and letting the smells of spring enter your lungs. On impulse Nagisa bends, ignoring his protesting bones to pick a blossom, and only smiling mischievously at your half-hearted admonishment about damaging the plant. He tucks it behind your hair, gone wispy with age, and presses a kiss to your forehead, before taking your hand again and leading you down the path, humming softly in the afternoon light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special shout out to bleachfanficfanatic who wrote multiple comments on this story and inspired me to pick this back up in my break. It was wonderful to return and find many comments from readers. Thank you all. :)


	27. What the heart wants (Oikawa Tooru)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaccckkkk!  
> I've had this sitting in my drafts for such a long time. I have mixed feelings about this one but I felt like you guys deserved something after all the lovely comments I got. This one is for all of you guys that encouraged me to get back into writing. I've been so drained by essay and all that but it was so lovely to write something indulgent even if it is not quite up to my standards. I hope you enjoy! xo

 

“Oikawa, get over here.”

You sit up from his bed with your arms outstretched, your hair is messy and your cheeks are flushed from sleep; it’s all so incredibly alluring. Oikawa can’t remember why he ever left his bed. He hastens to your side, flipping back the covers and discovering to his delight that you’re only wearing one of his t-shirts and a pretty, patterned thong. You make a noise of protest at the loss of heat, but Oikawa only laughs and sits beside you, gathering you up into his arms and pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Your body is so warm against him as he kisses you again, playful and light, marvelling at the softness of your lips. His hands sneak under your shirt, grasping at your hips and drawing patterns, lazy and affectionate on your back. But it’s you, and he can’t keep his kisses chaste for long. Not when you’re cute and sleepy, making little happy murmurs of praise against his mouth as he lays you back against the pillows. The kiss turns bruising in a moment, like the catch of a match. His hands push up your shirt - _his shirt-_ to expose your chest and you let out a little peep of surprise at the cold air, exhaling a shuddering breath as his fingers brush over your nipples, breathing a sigh of his name and arching your back. The tantalizing curves and graceful lines of your body under his hands have his heart beating double time…and then he’s looking at his ceiling, groggy from sleep with a raging boner.

“Ugh shitfuck.”

Oikawa wastes no time, rolling over and burying his hand in his boxers without preamble, tugging harshly at his cock with his brow furrowed and his eyes still half shut from sleep. Usually he’s not this aggressive, taking his time and edging himself to keep it interesting. But this isn’t the first dream featuring you he’s had this week, it’s not even the fourth. It’s like his body is hyper aware that he’ll see you tomorrow for the first time since break started. Texts and snapchat haven’t satisfied him, he wants to see you, wants to be _with_ you, so badly.

He casts his mind back to his dream, his imagination picking up where it left off. His thoughts of you are terrible and wonderful all at once because he knows you so well. His mind easily supplies your scent, the baggy t-shirt you wear to bed, the thong he saw in your washing pile once, your voice, it’s all so real, a sweet kind of torture. It doesn’t take him long; it never does when he thinks of you. He groans as he spills over his hand, flopping onto his back and basking in the lazy fatigue that washes over him.

He should be packing right about now, he’s left it to the last minute, like always. He can almost hear Iwa-chan chastising him from his house down the road. It’s been good to see his friend again. Even though Iwaizumi is attending a university in the same city as him it’s been difficult to see each other in person. He’s hoping to change that this year. When he summons up the energy Oikawa stumbles from his bed to his bathroom, scratching his bare stomach and yawning hugely as he debates over whether jerking off in the shower to more fantasies of you is a morally ambiguous thing to do or not. Are there rules about masturbating to one of your best friends? Like, exclusively? Coz that’s what it’s turned into. There probably is, but it’s a bit late to start worrying about it now, this ain’t exactly his first rodeo.

The next day his sister drives him to Tokyo with Takeru, his adorable nephew, squished in the back beside all his belongings. The little guy is humming to the radio with the promise of a trip to Disney Sea evident in the grin on his face.

“Oh, by the way, good luck with that girl, dumbass.”

Oikawa looks at his sister in shock, then hunches down in his seat with his arms crossed and a withering frown. “You really have to stop going through my phone neesan.”

“But then I wouldn’t get to laugh at your ‘moves’ and dismal attempts to not let your feelings be too obvious, because let me tell you, they’re obvious. Just fucking ask her out or –”

“Shut up! I’m working on it. And should you really be swearing in front of your son?”

He annoys his sister with his horrible navigation skills, and she annoys him by giving him ‘helpful’ advice about his love life, but finally they arrive outside his new home. An un-inspiring, ordinary Tokyo apartment complex that you can find anywhere in the city. But he wouldn’t trade it for a luxury penthouse because you’re sitting on the low wall at the entrance wearing a smile that makes his heart race. His sister barely stops the car before he is throwing open the door and pulling you up into a hug. God, he had missed the smell of your perfume. You’re more beautiful then you were when he first met you, your smiles come easier and you hold yourself with a quiet confidence you had only managed to fake back then with snark and a prickly attitude.

“The hell is this ugly thing?”

Well you still have snark and a prickly attitude, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I’m wounded [Name]-chan have you seriously not seen E.T.?”

You lean back but remain in his arms, your nose adorably wrinkled as you scoff and tug at the edge of his T-shirt. “But it’s hideous?” you say, still confused.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just ruin our long-awaited reunion with your blasphemous speech. A kiss is in order to right your heinous wrongs, don’t you think?”

You open your mouth, no doubt to tell him exactly where he can stick that idea, but your gaze flicks down to his lips, almost as if you can’t help it, and it has his heart doing all sorts of acrobatics in his chest. Unfortunately, before you can say anything a different voice rings out.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here~”

Makki and Mattsun interrupt the moment, shooting shit eating grins Oikawa’s way as he begrudgingly lets you go and greets the two, part-time professional cockblockers who he will also be sharing this apartment with. The rent is cheap because the apartment is owned by Makki’s business tycoon aunt who he managed to wheedle into a good deal. But the best part is that it’s only a few blocks from campus and the cute café the two of you often frequent, but somehow Oikawa thinks that will hinder rather than help his attendance record.

Everyone chips in to help unload his things from the car, which means he only has to make two trips up the worryingly rocky elevator to the right floor. The apartment is plain but clean, and more spacious then he had anticipated. His room is by the bathroom which means he is only one door away from you. Sharing a bathroom with you is an intriguing concept he hadn’t thought of before but surely it will feature in his next round of dreams. The sun is shining; the air is mild and this day just keeps getting better and better. You follow him into his room, weighed down by a bursting gym bag before dumping it on the floor and looking around. Right now, it’s just a plain single bed, a desk, a chair and a built-in wardrobe that looks far too small to hold all his clothes, but the blandness of the room is somehow exciting because it means he can throw himself into decorating it as he sees fit in the two weeks they still have left before term starts.

You help him unpack his stuff, rolling your eyes as you pull out his battered lava lamp and UFO clock from a box. At least the bed clothes your idiot of a best friend is wrestling onto the duvet and pillows are mercifully plain; a pale blue striped set with no galaxy print in sight.

A week later Oikawa throws open your door with an excited yell, startling you from an impromptu afternoon nap, and informing you that the Olympic qualifiers are currently being played and today is the men’s first game like it’s somehow more important than your mission to sleep to noon everyday while you can. You’re allowed, you still have a week until Uni starts after all, who cares if you just wake up to eat then go back to sleep?

You groan and wave him away, only rising when you hear the door slam, and stretching out your arms until you hear a satisfying pop in the bones of your wrists.

You make your way into the living room with bleary eyes, scratching at the back of your neck and moving towards the kitchen unit, your mind on your empty stomach when Oikawa spins around on the sofa, his greeting smile disappearing as he chokes on his toast.

 “What are you wearing?!” he splutters, his eyes huge as his gaze lingers on your legs, bare all the way to the very tops of your thighs in black booty shorts, the thin material of your white t-shirt disguising little of the fact that you’re braless.

You’re unimpressed by the gravity of the situation, frowning at him with confused eyes. “Um, what I wore to bed?” Oikawa jumps up and scrambles over to you, putting his hands on your shoulders and trying to shield the sight from the eyes of Makki and Mattsun at the breakfast bar.

“Don’t you know you’re living with three guys? You can’t just wander around like this! What if you seduce Makki-chan! Or-or if Mattsun tries to jump you? Or-

You tune out Oikawa’s panicked ramblings, looking behind him to where your flatmates are trying to figure out what one of the plastic cooking contraptions you got from Daiso is actually for, and can’t help but feel underwhelmed by Oikawa’s warnings.

“…Right, I think I’m good Oikawa.”

Oikawa looks so distraught at your answer that you throw up your arms with a huff and plod back to your room, pulling sweats and a hoodie over the top of your clothes. You pause by the mirror on your way out the door, quickly fixing a stray hair, then immediately feel stupid for doing so. It’s not like you care what Oika _-your flatmates_ think about your appearance.

Back in the kitchen Oikawa is feeling guilty about ordering you around, mixing hot chocolates at the sink as an olive branch. He’s stopped sleeping with random girls on the weekends after the party where you rolled over and cuddled him, but he knows he is a long way from becoming an item with you. But he’s trying, and it’s something that hasn’t gone unnoticed.

Makki speaks from his seat at the breakfast bar, making his voice low and enunciating all of his words clearly like narrators do on the documentaries Mattsun likes to watch.

“Notice how the male attempts to woo his perspective mate with gifts of sugar, so far she is unresponsive to his methods.”

Oikawa flips him off and picks up the drinks, carrying them over to the coffee table, swearing and blowing on his fingers when he splashes himself with boiling cocoa. Makki is unperturbed and spins around on his chair so he can track Oikawa’s movement as he continues, “The male is driven to great lengths as his biological make up urges him to mate like the filthy animal that he is. Let us continue to watch this highly illogical and stupid male as he forges onwards with his courtship. We can only hope his efforts will not be in vain and the poor, lonely male will manage to get his dick wet at some point.”

Mattsun snorts, watching his idiot friends fondly as Makki dodges the pillow Oikawa hurls his way with ease, cackling like a maniac.

“Makki you can’t talk like [Name] is just a means for Oikawa to get his end away.” Mattsun chides, standing up to open the fridge, then the pantry, then the fridge again as if he expects food they don’t have to materialize. “You were saying yesterday that you think she is cool, weren’t you?”

 “You’re right. [Name] is much too good for Oikawa. Maybe I’ll throw my hat in the ring. See if I could do a better job than Shittykawa here.” Makki nods sagely, ignoring Oikawa’s weak splutter of, “Back off she’s mine!”

When you appear back in the living room the three immediately shut up, looking guilty as your gaze travels over each one in turn. You raise a single eyebrow, your voice suspicious. “…What?”

“Nothing [Name]-chan,” Oikawa says, patting the space next to him on the sofa, “get over here, it’s starting.”

You dismiss the weird energy in the room and fold yourself next to Oikawa, throwing your legs over his lap and smiling when he nudges your drink closer towards you on the coffee table. You sigh happily as you take a sip, missing the smug look Oikawa shoots Makki over his shoulder. You settle down as the commentators list out the starting line up over shots of the warm up, humming when Oikawa’s large hands mindlessly begin to massage your calves.

Watching volleyball with Oikawa is an interesting experience. He seems to really want you to have an appreciation for the game, and so spends much of the time pointing out the finer parts of both teams’ set ups and plays, until things get really tense in the rallies and he goes completely quiet, his gaze transitioning into the extremely focused one he displays during his own matches. It’s sweet of him, even if you only understand half of it.

When the match is over Oikawa’s phone trills, cutting off a dire flat discussion about dinner. It’s Iwaizumi, and Oikawa quickly bows out of the conversation to analyse and fanboy over the game. You’ve never actually met Iwaizumi, but you’re already predisposed to approve of him if he makes Oikawa as happy as he looks now. From what you’ve understood from some of the stories from the gang’s Aoba Jousei days, he was often the voice of reason when it came to Oikawa’s more hare-brained schemes. It’s when you’re rinsing out the mugs that the spark of an idea starts to form, and already you are excited and curious to see what face Oikawa will make when you surprise him, your heartbeat pulsing loud in your chest. The normal way a friend’s heart beats when they want to surprise their _friend_ because they are just great _friends_ who care about each other because they are just _friends._ Friends.

You’re acting suspiciously and Oikawa is burning with curiosity. When you’re sleeping in Mattsun mentions over breakfast that you asked him for Iwaizumi’s number the night before, which makes zero sense to Oikawa. Why didn’t you just ask him for it? He would have given it to you without much thought. Then later that week when Makki mentions his intention to go clubbing next Friday you adamantly say you have a flat meeting planned for that night that’s apparently can’t be moved to another night. You’re avoiding his questions and gaze. At night, his curiosity becomes something ugly. He doesn’t like this. He must have fucked up somehow. This is what Kana did to him, slowly distancing herself, pulling away from him. The last thought is the most depressing because he never even had you.

On Thursday night Oikawa barely sleeps, his mind throwing up scenes and scenarios. You’re leaving the flat, you’re leaving the country, you’re leaving him. When the weak, sickly morning sunlight finally creeps into the room he’s startled out of his morose daze by the squeak of his door as it is flung open. You burst through, your face lit up in a grin, clutching small pieces of paper to your chest. Oikawa sits up in groggy confusion, his hair stuck up in all directions, he barely gets to voice his shock before you’re flopping onto his bed with a laugh that makes everything right in his world again. You thrust the paper into his chest and Oikawa looks down in confusion, squinting so he can make out the writing through sleepy eyes. They’re not pieces of paper, they’re tickets, tickets to Japan’s next qualifying match. Oikawa is speechless as he reads over the fine print again. You know next to nothing about volleyball, only what he told you from what he can make out. But you’ve gone out of your way to make him happy. “I didn’t want to tell you in case I couldn’t get them. It was harder than I imagined.”

His heart feels so light as he tugs you closer, wrapping his arms around you, smiling into the crook of your neck.

 “You’re the best.”

* * *

 

There little party loiters outside the stadium, waiting for Iwaizumi to join them. Mattsun and Makki mooch around, occasionally sniffing the air and debating over if the amazing smell coming from the food stalls a little way down the path is doughnuts or churros.

A handsome tanned man jogs over to them, waving an apology. “Sorry, Sorry! My mum called me before I left and I couldn’t hang up. How is everyone?”

The boys rattle off their answers in quick succession, starting to make their way up the path to the stadium, Makki and Mattsun making a beeline for the food stands. That leaves only Oikawa and the famous Iwaizumi as your company. You startle slightly as a hand snakes around your shoulder, “Iwa-chan this is my [Name]-chan, say hello.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes you with renewed interest, nodding his head politely in your direction and taking your hand. “it’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.“

“You have?” You say in surprise, looking around to see where the other two have run off to in the bustling crowd.

“Um. Yeah.”

You get the weirdest feeling that Oikawa and Iwaizumi are sending each other looks behind your back, and give them the privacy they need to do that by continuing to scan for the other boys.

There’s a beat of silence and then Oikawa is guiding you towards the entrance, waving over the other two who he can see, being taller than most of the crowd. In your seats Oikawa and the boys all have shining eyes as they dissect the game, arms crossed and faces serious; It’s weirdly adorable. In between sets, you’re left with Iwaizumi while the others run to the bathroom. You’re pleasantly surprised, Iwaizumi looks intimidating, but you find him easy to talk to, covering the usual topics of classes and majors.

“Thanks for putting up with Oikawa, he can be a handful, but he means well and he is not a bad person.”

It feels like a strange thing to be thanked for. You get the feeling Iwaizumi is watching you closely, but for what you can’t say.

“Someone’s got to do it I guess.”

A thought occurs to you. “This might sound weird but… When I first meet Oikawa, it was at a party and he mentioned you. Said that you had abandoned him or something, I know he exaggerates but… well, what was that about? You’re obviously still friends and…”

You trail off into what could be an awkward silence but Iwaizumi just barks a laugh and replies promptly, “Oh that was just because I told him to pull his head out of his ass and told him some hard truths. He always gets sulky when he hears things he doesn’t want to but he always comes around. We started talking to each other after, what, a week at most? He was… not doing well. You heard about Kana? Well he knew that she was cheating on him for two weeks before she broke it off. I wanted him to call her on it and move on, but he didn’t want to. He should have broken up with her as soon as he found out.”

Iwaizumi frowns, clearly not a fan of Oikawa’s ex. You didn’t have any friends to think badly or well of your ex. It’s nice that Oikawa has so many people to rely on. You nod in understanding, your eyes following the movements of the substitute players warming up. Your mind slips a bit to the black hole that is Monday morning where you have to drag your body to campus for a week of boring introductory lectures, so Iwaizumi’s question catches you completely off guard.

“Do you like him? Oikawa, I mean.”

“I—um, what?” you ask, but you both know you heard him, and so he just looks at you and waits for you to get your head on straight. Shit are you blushing?

“He’s… a good guy, a good friend.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Shit. You are going to have to rethink the idea that Iwaizumi is easy to talk to. Is he really not going to let this go? He’s not going to let this go. One glance at his face tells you he won’t take your mumbled pleasantries as an answer.

“It’s just that Oikawa has a habit of letting the people he likes walk all over him. You seem like a decent person. But I only just meet you so…”

“I see,” you say, your head spinning, “that makes sense…”

You stall for time, reaching for your drink under your seat and playing with the bottle cap without actually taking it off or attempting to drink. “Well, um. I guess I would say I like him, um.” Oh my god this has got to be the most embarrassing uncomfortable conversation you’ve ever had. You’re not even dating the boy but you feel like your meeting his parents for the first time. “I haven’t really… Well I can guarantee that I wouldn’t start dating someone until I was sure about my feelings, and that I wouldn’t treat them badly.”

Iwaizumi nods “That’s all I need to hear.” He smiles, and when you resume your normal conversation it feels more intimate than before, like you have both let down your walls slightly.

When the game is over, on your way back home after a rare treat of Korean barbeque for dinner, you fight a losing battle with your eyelids, exhausted after everything you went through to keep this all a surprise. Oikawa, unusually quiet, pulls your nodding head onto his shoulder and you gratefully accept, caring little about the line you are constantly crossing these days. It’s hard to care when it’s so easy to let Oikawa play with your hands like he is doing now. Stealing his body heat and smiling at how relaxing it is. “You got on well with Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sniffs, there is a pause where a soothing female voice rattles off a stop, and you stretch, knowing your stop is next.

“Yeah, he’s my kinda guy. He just says it like it is, you know? And he’s got a lot of compassion for his friends.”

Oikawa crosses his arms and stares out the window, but you can still see him in the faint reflection. He’s pouting.

“What are you sulking about?”

“Nothing.”

“…Okay.”

“Iwaizumi snores by the way. Like a foghorn, you wouldn’t like it. Also, he dumps his clothes on the floor. And this one time, he wet himself when we were watching horror films. We were like seven but still.”

“…..Okay?”

* * *

 

“I fell in love.”

Oikawa almost has a heart attack at your words, dropping his keys on your carpet with a soft thump. “What?”

It’s a month into term. You’re ignoring the growing backlog of assignments and essays like a seasoned pro and enjoying just a little bit of me time, when Oikawa walks past your opened door and you say the fateful words to him.

You wave him over to the bed and he sits beside you gingerly. You turn your laptop toward him with a hand covering your heart, tears in your eyes.

Oikawa swallows before his gazes lowers to the screen and he freezes.

“[Name].”

“Yeah?”

“This is a drawing.”

“I know!!! Isn’t he cute? But you have to watch the show to really—“

“This is an anime character.”

“Yes! Weren’t you listening? Anyway—“

Oikawa laughs, all giddy and high pitched, slightly deranged even, and tackles you to the bed in a giant bear hug.

“Oi get off. You’re heavy,” you grouse, pushing vainly at his shoulders as you try to squirm out of his hold and out from under the oppressive weight of his body. “Ugh, and sweaty. Go and take a shower.”

Oikawa only laughs again, purposely rubbing his sweaty forehead into your cheek to make you yelp in disapproval. He’s still in his training tracksuit, having just come from practice, he had been exhausted not two seconds ago, but he feels recharged from his trying day by simply hearing your voice, even if your voice is shrill with disapproval as you bat at him with your sweater paws. A year ago, you would have just punched him, you’re as good as letting him pin you, it makes his heart race. Slowly but surely your slipping into something more, and you are letting that happen. It makes him want to tease you, but he is walking a fine line, he doesn’t want you to scurry away in fright if he pushes things too far too soon. You’re like a bird, wary, with your heart fluttering in your wrists, as he holds your hands above your head, pinned to the bed so he can continue to torment you. He has learned to trust your pulse, he wonders if you know it betrays your feelings, belaying the insults you throw his way or your impressive array of cold expressions. You give up trying to half-heartedly dislodge him with a sigh and Oikawa laughs and flops beside you with a grin. It falters slightly when you smack him in the stomach but he drags you into his chest and you let him, making a face at the smell, but still. You’re soft where it counts, it might even be why you try to appear cold in the first place, he doesn’t know why that never occurred to him before.

“You really do stink.”

“No, no, this is manly, it’s sexy.”

“No. It really isn’t.”

“Mmh.”

Just a bit more, just little bit more. He can feel things shifting, you’re not running away anymore. He takes your hand in his and leaves a soft kiss on the palm of your hand, a salacious smile fliting across his face when you shiver but keep your eyes closed, pretending to have dozed off. He lets you passively receive his affection, aware that your indirect avoidance of the moment signals that’s as far as he should try to push you today. He gotten good at this, at toeing the line. Just a little bit more.

“How was practice?”

“Tiring. But we should be all set for the tournament next month. You’ll come watch, right?

“Sure. If I am free.”

You both know you will be there.

* * *

 

He’s bouncing a fresh ball against the hard, wooden floor, a long exhale, then he is tossing it into the air and smashing it over the net. It sails into the far corner with pinpoint precision as you watch him in silence, your eyes following the movement of his body in detached appreciation as your mind wanders. Oikawa leaps into the air to follow the flight of the next ball, the muscles in his legs bunching under him as he battles with gravity. His face becomes a near snarl as his hand makes contact. You can see the impact from the force of it ripple up his arm and into his shoulder. You don’t look to see where the ball landed this time, gaze fixed on his face and the little smile of satisfaction playing about his lips. Like this Oikawa is mesmerizing, full of a fierce kind of beauty that draws the eye and sends little pinpricks of heated awareness throughout your body. You’re supposed to be checking your flash cards for the test tomorrow, but you would rather sneak glances at the faint line where the darker skin contrasts with the lighter skin of his upper thigh when his shorts rise up; rather look for the flashes of his stomach when he throws the ball over his head. You wonder if he is aware of your gaze.

He is aware of your gaze. He revels in it. He lets you look, never making eye contact with you, and pretending he doesn’t see you bite your bottom lip when he uses the edge of his t-shirt to wipe sweat of his forehead.

Quick think of something to say. Anything that will keep your mind off the contours of his abs.

“Can I tell you something? It’s kinda hilarious when I think about it.”

“You can tell me anything,” Oikawa says as he picks up another ball from the basket and spins it in his long-fingered hands.

“The night we met; I was actually at that party to look for someone to bring home. The whole ‘getting over someone by getting under someone’ deal but more like, getting over my own insecurities and hang ups instead of an actual person. So theoretically you could have had sex with me on the first night we met.”

One corner of your mouth lifts up teasingly, trying to distance yourself from the rapid pulse of your heart and appear cool and unconcerned.

“You blew the best chance you ever had with me by puking on my shoes. Isn’t fate artistic?”

You’re expecting a returned jab, or perhaps a long winded, over-dramatic lament. But Oikawa seems intent on surprising you. His eyes, lovely and warm like chocolate, are serious, more serious then you’ve ever seen them before, with the exception of game day, his face completely wiped free of guile or carefully constructed good humour. It’s frightening and thrilling and makes your heart do funny things in your chest.

His voice is intimate, as honest as his expression.

“I prefer it that it turned out like this. If you had taken me home on that first night, I doubt you would have wanted to talk to me again. This way I got to have [Name]-chan as a friend.”

“I didn’t want to talk to you again. Idiot.”

It’s meant to be a rebuff, a lead-in to the usual jokey- insults you sling back and forth, but your voice comes out unintentionally breathy and soft. In response Oikawa’s gaze turns hot, like it’s striping away your hard-lacquered shell and leaving you bare before him. A pin through a butterfly’s wing. You flush and turn your head away, alarm bells ringing their warning in your head. It’s too intimate, you’re too vulnerable like this. Why did you bring up the topic of sex anyway? Freudian slip? You stand up, abruptly breaking the oppressive heat of his gaze, muttering something about being hungry before you flee from the gym in the most dignified manner you can conjure up.

Oikawa watches you leave, his gaze burning the back of your head, then turns and smashes the next serve right down the centre of the court, smirking at the bang of the impact as it echoes around the now empty gymnasium. Oikawa’s known for his hunger for victory on the court, and right now he is starving. He can sniff out the scent of victory in the air, can almost taste it.

As you rush past the little café on your way home you groan at the sky, restraining yourself from physically facepalming. Why did you bring that up? You’re _trying_ to avoid any disruption to the current situation; or are you? Fffuck it’s all so annoying. Why couldn’t you just enjoy his hugs and be friends and let nothing ever change. No one gets hurt, you don’t have to move out when you break up, everyone is happy! A sudden blast of wind has you wrapping your arms around yourself and your falsely optimistic picture crumples like paper. You could date Oikawa and be happy. Probably. But how long would that last? A month? A Year? And then you would have to start all over again with some other guy, you’ve been through this before. Trusting someone with your emotional wellbeing, with personal information and experiences is a bad bet. You’re irritated, you’re just making stupid excuses. Why are you thinking about breaking up with someone you’re not even dating? It’s stupid, it’s stupid but you’re doing it and you are scared. You might not—

“Shi-sorry.”

You walk into something solid and warm. Face already flushing red as you realise you just walked into someone, but then your blood freezes. The voice is startling in its familiarity. And you pull back half in hope, half in trepidation.

“[Name]-san? Is that you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliff hanger! JK you guys probably know who it is already. I don't think I am a good enough writer to actually surprise you guys. Till next time! xxx

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated, I'm hoping to improve my writing skills and every little thing helps.  
> Review and bookmark to make my day, kudos is greatly appreciated also :)  
> Till next time reader-chan.


End file.
